People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that’s what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life.
A soul mate’s purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life…"
Ah, these evenings are full of such painful indifference it is as if the autumn were beginning in us rather than the world.
Each autumn that comes brings us closer to what will be our last autumn; the same could be said of late spring or summer but autumn, by its very nature, reminds us of the ending of everything, so easy to forget in kinder seasons. It is still not yet quite autumn and the air is not yet filled with the yellow of fallen leaves or the damp sad weather that will eventually turn to winter. But there is an anticipation of sadness, some intimate grief dressed and ready for the journey, in one’s sense of being aware, however vaguely, of an ancient quiet which, as nightfalls, slowly invades the unavoidable presence of the Universe.
Yes, we will all pass, everything will pass."
"There is no escape. You can’t be a vagabond and an artist and still be a solid citizen, a wholesome, upstanding man. You want to get drunk, so you have to accept the hangover. You say yes to the sunlight and pure fantasies, so you have to say yes to the filth and the nausea. Everything is within you, gold and mud, happiness and pain, the laughter of childhood and the apprehension of death. Say yes to everything, shirk nothing. Don’t try to lie to yourself. You are not a solid citizen. You are not a Greek. You are not harmonious, or the master of yourself. You are a bird in the storm. Let it storm! Let it drive you! How much have you lied! A thousand times, even in your poems and books, you have played the harmonious man, the wise man, the happy, the enlightened man. In the same way, men attacking in war have played heroes, while their bowels twitched. My God, what a poor ape, what a fencer in the mirror man is- particularly the artist- particularly myself!"
"Your light is seen. Your heart is known. Your soul is cherished by more people than you might imagine. If you knew how many others have been touched in wonderful ways by you, you would be astonished. If you knew how many people feel so much for you, you would be shocked. You are far more wonderful than you think you are. Rest with that. Rest easy with that. Breathe again. You are doing fine. More than fine. Better than fine. You’re doing great. So relax. And love yourself today."
"A squirrel is filled with the reality and present joy of his being, and none of you today has seen a squirrel with a hypodermic needle up in a tree! He does not need it, either. He does not need peyote. He does not need acid. He does not need grass—because he is that which he is, and he is full of the joy of his being, and not afraid of it. And as he scampers through the branches, he is not afraid of falling down, either, because he trusts his own being. And he knows, without your fine intellect, that he has a place in this universe—that a place was made for him, and that his being is sacred and joyful and alive."
"For those who believe in God, most of the big questions are answered. But for those of us who can’t readily accept the God formula, the big answers don’t remain stone-written. We adjust to new conditions and discoveries. We are pliable. Love need not be a command nor faith a dictum. I am my own god. We are here to unlearn the teachings of the church, state, and our educational system. We are here to drink beer. We are here to kill war. We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that Death will tremble to take us."
"This place is a dream. Only a sleeper considers it real. Then death comes like dawn, and you wake up laughing at what you thought was your grief."
"Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us. These, our bodies, possessed by light. Tell me we’ll never get used to it."