It’s not that I can’t fall in love. It’s really that I can’t help falling in love with too many things all at once. So, you must understand why I can’t distinguish between what’s platonic and what isn’t, because it’s all too much and not enough at the same time.
What does it mean that I am in this endless universe, thinking that I'm a man sitting under the stars on the terrace of the earth, but actually empty and awake throughout the emptiness and awakedness of everything? It means that I'm empty and awake, that I know I'm empty and awake, and that there's no difference between me and anything else.
In our true blissful essence of mind is known that everything is alright forever and forever and forever...listen to the silence inside the illusion of the world, and you will remember the lesson you forgot, It is all one vast awakened thing. We were never really born, we will never really die. It has nothing to do with the imaginary idea of a personal self, other selves, many selves everywhere: Self is only an idea, a mortal idea. That which passes into everything is one thing. It's a dream already ended.
An awful realization that I have been fooling myself all my life thinking there was a next thing to do to keep the show going and actually I'm just a sick clown and so is everybody else
She brooded and bit her rich lips: my soul began its first sink into her, deep, heady, lost; like drowning in a witches' brew, Keltic, sorcerous, starlike.
The fact that everybody in the world dreams every night ties all mankind together.
All of life is a foreign country.
Some of my most neurotically fierce bitterness is the result of realizing how untrue people have become.
Something good will come out of all things yet — And it will be golden and eternal just like that.
Pretty girls make graves
It's good-bye. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies
You are the equal of the idol who has given you your inspiration
My shoes are clean from walking in the rain.
I felt free and therefore I was free.
I was suddenly left with nothing in my hands but a handful of crazy stars.
A sociable smile is nothing but a mouth full of teeth.
Who knows, my God, but that the universe is not one vast sea of compassion actually, the veritable holy honey, beneath all this show of personality and cruelty?
Believe in the holy contour of life.
Desolation, desolation, I owe so much to desolation.
I suddenly discovered the delight of rebellion.
I felt like lying down by the side of the trail and remembering it all. The woods do that to you, they always look familiar, long lost, like the face of a long-dead relative, like an old dream, like a piece of forgotten song drifting across the water, most of all like golden eternities of past childhood or past manhood and all the living and the dying and the heartbreak that went on a million years ago and the clouds as they pass overhead seem to testify (by their own lonesome familiarity) to this feeling.
If critics say your work stinks it's because they want it to stink and they can make it stink by scaring you into conformity with their comfortable little standards. Standards so low that they can no longer be considered "dangerous" but set in place in their compartmental understandings.
Let nature do the freezing and frightening and isolating in this world. let men work and love and fight it off.
You'd be surprised how little I knew even up to yesterday
I'm Catholic and I can't commit suicide, but I plan to drink myself to death.
Follow AzQuotes on Facebook, Twitter and Google+. Every day we present the best quotes! Improve yourself, find your inspiration, share with friends
or simply: