Flirting With Madness Was One Thing; When

What Folly Made Young People, Even Those In Middle Age, Think They Were Immortal? How Much Better, Their Lives, If They Could Remember The End. Carrying Your Death With You Every Day Would Make It Hard To Waste Time On Unkindness And Anger And Bitterness, On Anything Petty. That Was The Secret: Remembering Your Dying Time, In Order To Keep The Stupid And The Ugly Out Of Your Living Time.

Hahnji, Mister, You Must Be Patient. Before You Can Name That Corner, Our Future Must Become Past.

Loss Is Essential, Loss Is Part And Parcel Of That Necessary Calamity Called Life. Mind You, I'm Not Complaining. Thanks To Some Inexplicable Universal Guiding Force, It Is Always The Worthless Things We Lose - Slough Off, Like A Moulting Snake. Losing And Losing Again, Is The Very Basis Of The Process, Til All We Are Left With Is The Bare Essence Of Human Existence.

You Have To Maintain A Fine Balance Between Hope And Despair.

If Time Were A Bolt Of Cloth,” Said Om, “i Would Cut Out All The Bad Parts. Snip Out The Scary Nights And Stitch Together The Good Parts, To Make Time Bearable. Then I Could Wear It Like A Coat, Always Live Happily.