Life moved ever outward into infinite possibilities and yet all things were perfect and finished in every single moment, their end attained.
For it is only in accepting death that one can truly live, and for the human animal, death has always been the great black beast from the abyss to be dreaded or defeated or avoided or hated - but never looked upon clearly face to face.
The true human being is the meaning of the universe. He is a dancing star. He is the exploding singularity pregnant with infinite possibilities.
For war is never some cosmic accident descending upon a people with all the chance and inevitability of asteroids falling like fire out of the heavens, but only the will and work of man.
It's not enough to look for the truth, however a noble journey that might be. [...] You must be able to say "yes" to what you see. [...] He is the yeasayer who could look upon evil, disease and suffering, all the worst incarnations of the Eternal No, and not fall insane. He is the great-souled one who can affirm the truth of the Universe.
I am not interested in things getting better; what I want is more: more human beings, more dreams, more history, more consciousness, more suffering, more joy, more disease, more agony, more rapture, more evolution, more life.
The way the universe evolves in consciousness of itself and causes itself to be. We are just this blessed consciousness, nothing more, nothing less. We are the light inside light that fuses into the atoms of our bodies; we are the fire that whirls across the stellar deeps and dances all things into being.
But it is the nature of life that no emotion is meant to last forever.
"What is a human being, then?" "A seed." "A... seed?" "An acorn that is unafraid to destroy itself in growing into a tree."
Beliefs are the eyelids of the mind.
Who would bring light must endure burning.
Before, you are wise; after, you are wise. In between you are otherwise.
If you kill me, you kill yourself." [...] He only wanted to convey to Janegg the truth of ahimsa, which is that all beings were connected to each other in the deepest way and thus it was impossible to harm another without harming oneself.
The belly is the reason that man does not easily mistake himself for a god.
In an infinite universe, every point in space-time is the center.
We walk the brink of racial suicide because we were smart enough to make atomic bombs and stupid enough to use them.
Self-creation is the highest art.
Each quantum event, each of the trillions of times reality's particles interact with each other every instant, is like a note that rings and resonates throughout the great bell of creation. And the sound of the ringing propagates instantaneously , everywhere at once, interconnecting all things. This is a truth of our universe. It is a mystical truth, that reality at its deepest level is an undivided wholeness.
A man lusts to become a god... and there is murder. Murder upon murder upon murder. Why is the world of men nothing but murder?
We are the eyes through which the Univers observes itself and knows itself divine.
All men are warriors. And life for everything in our universe is nothing but war.