When a man becomes old, his greed becomes young: sleep grows heavy at the time of morning.

In this market every head has a different fancy: everyone winds his turban in a different fashion.

Seek for the truth from the heart which is empty of thought.

The roots of the aged palm tree exceed those of the young one; the old have a greater attachment to the world.

The wave is ignorant of the true nature of the sea: how can the temporal comprehend the eternal?

To the seeker after pearls, silence is a speaking argument, for no breath comes forth from the diver of the sea.

Formerly, people used to grieve over the departed, but in our days they grieve over the survivors.

Peace is in proportion to every pause: observe the difference between to run, to walk, to stand, to sit, to lie, to die.

The life of this transitory world is the expectation of death: to renounce life is to escape from the expectation of annihilation.

Ten doors are opened if one door be shut: the finger is the interpreter of the dumb man's tongue.

What does it profit you that all the libraries of the world should be yours? Not knowledge but what one does with knowledge is your profit.

The house is eerily quiet. All this time I thought silence would be a welcome reprieve, but it's less comforting than I imagined. The house feels so much bigger and colder than it ever has.

Because of pain you feel more and so you live more.

Every time he saw her he realised the reason why they always said humans are made of stardust.

I find a good cliche very comforting in times of stress." said the Sage

When I was in Washington, I would usually get home from the Capitol at about 7:30 or 8, and I would try to write as much as possible. It was almost all in the wee hours.

To dig one's own spade into one's own earth! Has life anything better to offer than this?

My rule is never to look at anything on the Internet.

I don't think anybody says to Coetzee or Dostoyevsky or Kafka, "Your characters aren't likeable." It's not about your character winning a popularity contest. That's not the writer's job.

Mr. Lincoln had no hope, and no faith, in the usual acceptation of those words.

I like the irony in my work.