To write rhythmic prose one must go deep into oneself and find the anonymous and multiple rhythm of the blood. Prose needs to be built like a cathedr….

Have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart. Try to love the questions themselves...At present you need to live the question. P….

Why don't you conceive of God as an ally who is coming, who has been approaching since time began, the one who will someday arrive, the fruit of a tr….

The artist's experience lies so unbelievably close to the sexual, to its pain and its pleasure, that the two phenomena are really just different form….

There is only one journey. Going inside yourself..

Beauty is only the start of bearable terror..

The purpose of life is to be defeated by greater and greater things..

Go into yourself. Dig into yourself for a deep answer.

If, when you wake up in the morning, you can think of nothing but writing . . . then you are a writer..

Life and death: they are one, at core entwined. Who understands himself from his own strain presses himself into a drop of wine and throws himself in….

Let everything happen to you Beauty and terror Just keep going No feeling is final.

It’s possible, I’m moving through the hard veins of heavy mountains, like an arc, alone; I’m so deep inside, I see no end in sight, and no distance: ….

Works of art always spring from those who have faced the danger, gone to the very end of an experience, to the point beyond which no human being can ….

Fame is the sum of the misunderstanding that gathers about a new name..

There are moments in which a rose is more important than a piece of bread.

I know of no other advice than this: Go within and scale the depths of your being from which your very life springs forth..

We have no reason to mistrust our world, for it is not against us. Has it terrors, they are our terrors; has it abysses, those abysses belong to us; ….

If only it were possible for us to see farther than our knowledge reaches, and even a little beyond the outworks of our presentiment, perhaps we woul….

When we are only victorious over small things, it leaves us feeling small..

...a carefree letting go of oneself, not a caution, but a wise blindness..

This is the miracle that happens every time to those who really love: the more they give, the more they possess..