Inside many of us is a small old man who wants to get out.

Emerald as heavy as a golf course, ruby as dark as an afterbirth, diamond as white as sun on the sea.

Saints have no moderation, nor do poets, just exuberance.

I am a collection of dismantled almosts.

Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard.

As it has been said: Love and a cough cannot be concealed. Even a small cough. Even a small love.

I’m lost. And it’s my own fault. It’s about time I figured out that I can’t ask people to keep me found.

Watch out for intellect, because it knows so much it knows nothing and leaves you hanging upside down, mouthing knowledge as your heart falls out of your mouth.

Meanwhile in my head, I’m undergoing open-heart surgery.

O starry night, This is how I want to die

O yellow eye, let me be sick with your heat, let me be feverish and frowning.

I fell in love with football as I was later to fall in love with women: suddenly, inexplicably, uncritically, giving no thought to the pain or disruption it would bring with it.

The secret self knows the anguish of our attachments and assures us that letting go of what we think we must have to be happy is the same as letting go of our unhappiness.

This could be our revolution: to love what is plentiful as much as what's scarce.

The thoughts of great men are the common heritage of humanity and let our countrymen receive inspiration and guidance from these thoughts.

To free yourself from the past you must break the rules of silence and compliance.

The great doing of little things, makes the great life.

His second cycle of teachings discusses the cosmology of the universes. But in his later years, he wrote the tantric texts.

I survive. I survived it all then and I'll survive the rest of it. Without your help.

Your happiness is your own responsibility.

If the workers took a notion they could stop all speeding trains; every ship upon the ocean they can tie with mighty chains.