People living deeply have no fear of death.

Life is a process of becoming, a combination of states we have to go through. Where people fail is that they wish to elect a state and remain in it. This is a kind of death.

Throw your dreams into space like a kite, and you do not know what it will bring back, a new life, a new friend, a new love, a new country.

Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage.

Life is truly known only to those who suffer, lose, endure adversity and stumble from defeat to defeat.

Dreams are necessary to life.

The personal life deeply lived always expands into truths beyond itself.

The only abnormality is the incapacity to love.

Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish it's source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.

Throw your dreams into space like a kite, and you do not know what it will bring back, a new life, a new friend, a new love, a new country.