To Me It Is Enough To Wonder

The True Value Of A Human Being Can Be Found In The Degree To Which He Has Attained Liberation From The Self.

Formal Symbolic Representation Of Qualitative Entities Is Doomed To Its Rightful Place Of Minor Significance In A World Where Flowers And Beautiful Women Abound.

There Are Times When One Feels Liberated From One’s Limits And Human Imperfections. At Such Moments, We See Ourselves There, In A Little Corner Of Our Little Planet, Our Eyes Fixed In Wonder On The Cold And Yet Deep Beauty Of That Which Is Eternal, That Which Is Elusive. Life And Death Are Fused Together And There Is No Evolution, Nor Destination, There Is Only Being.

Knowledge Of What Is Does Not Open The Door Directly To What Should Be.

Force Always Attracts Men Of Low Morality, And I Believe It To Be An Invariable Rule That Tyrants Of Genius Are Succeeded By Scoundrels.