What have we to offer the world beside the superabundant loot which we recklessly plunder from the earth under the maniacal delusion that this insane activity represents progress and enlightenment?

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Everything hinges on how you look at things.

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The world is not to be put in order. The world is order. It is for us to put ourselves in unison with this order.

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There is no salvation in becoming adapted to a world which is crazy.

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The moment one gives close attention to anything, even a blade of grass, it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself.

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If a person continues to see giants, it means he is still looking at the world through the eyes of a child.

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We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are.

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You give up the world line by line. Stoically. And then one day you realize that your courage is farcical. It doesn't mean anything. You've become an accomplice in your own annihilation and there is nothing you can do about it. Everything you do closes a door somewhere ahead of you. And finally there is only one door left.

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So everything is necessary. Every least thing. This is the hard lesson. Nothing can be dispensed with. Nothing despised. Because the seams are hid from us, you see. The joinery. The way in which the world is made. We have no way to know what could be taken away. What omitted. We have no way to tell what might stand and what might fall.

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He took advantage of the disorder and the night. In a world that was adrift, he felt perfectly comfortable.

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