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There's A Devil Inside Me Which Cries, "you're Not The Son Of The Carpenter, You're The Son Of King David! You Are Not A Man, You Are The Son Of Man Whom Daniel Prophesied." And Still More: "the Son Of God! And Still More: God!

-Nikos Kazantzakis

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There's A Devil Inside

Nikos Kazantzakis

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There's A Devil Inside Me Which Cries, "you're Not The Son Of The Carpenter, You're The Son Of King David! You Are Not A Man, You Are The Son Of Man Whom Daniel Prophesied." And Still More: "the Son Of God! And Still More: God!

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I Am A Weak, Ephemeral Creature Made Of Mud And Dream. But I Feel All The Powers Of The Universe Whirling Within Me.

Every Word Is An Adamantine Shell Which Encloses A Great Explosive Force. To Discover Its Meaning You Must Let It Burst Inside You Like A Bomb And In This Way Liberate The Soul Which It Imprisons.

The Real Meaning Of Enlightenment Is To Gaze With Undimmed Eyes On All Darkness.

All The Political, Social, And Economic Improvements, All The Technical Progress Cannot Have Any Regenerating Significance, So Long As Our Inner Life Remains As It Is At Present. The More The Intelligence Unveils And Violates The Secrets Of Nature, The More The Danger Increases And The Heart Shrinks.

Each Man Must Have His Own Special Route To Lead Him To God.

Beauty Is Merciless. You Do Not Look At It, It Looks At You And Does Not Forgive.

God Sends Rain, But He Also Sends Hoods; And When The Rain Grows Heavier, He Sends A Cave.

Monarch Of Earth, I Shall Confess My Secret Craft: I've Always Fought To Purify Wild Flame To Light, And Kindle Whatever Light I Found To Burst In Flame.

Never In My Life Have I Feared Death As Much As I Feared That Resurrection.

God Changes His Appearance Every Second. Blessed Is The Man Who Can Recognize Him In All His Disguises.

There Is Only One Sin God Will Not Forgive Boss, And That Is To Deny A Woman Who Is In Wanting ~ Zorba

Life On Earth Means: The Sprouting Of Wings.

The Masses Do Not See The Sirens. They Do Not Hear Songs In The Air. Blind, Deaf, Stooping, They Pull At Their Oars In The Hold Of The Earth. But The More Select, The Captains, Harken To A Siren Within Them...and Royally Squander Their Lives With Her.

Once More I Realized To What An Extent Earthly Happiness Is Made To The Measure Of Man. It Is Not A Rare Bird Which We Must Pursue At One Moment In Heaven, At The Next In Our Minds. Happiness Is A Domestic Bird Found In Our Own Courtyards.

What Is Truth? What Is Falsehood? Whatever Gives Wings To Men, Whatever Produces Great Works And Great Souls And Lifts Up A Man's Height Above The Earth - That's True. Whatever Clips Off Man's Wings - That's False.

Alas For Him Who Seeks Salvation In Good Only! Balanced On God's Strong Shoulders, Good And Evil Flap Together Like Two Mighty Wings And Lift Him High.

God Is Action, Complete With Mistakes, Fumblings, Persistence, Agony. God Is Not The Power That Has Found Eternal Equilibrium, But The Power That Is Forever Breaking Every Equilibrium, Forever Searching For A Higher One.

Throughout My Life, My Greatest Benefactors Have Been My Dreams And My Travels; Very Few Men, Living Or Dead, Have Helped Me In My Struggle.

What A Strange Machine Man Is! You Fill Him With Bread, Wine, Fish, And Radishes, And Out Comes Sighs, Laughter, And Dreams.

So Few In Reality Are The True Necessities Of Man

Ah, If You Could Dance All That You've Just Said, Then I'd Understand.

As You Walk, You Cut Open And Create That River Bed Into Which The Stream Of Your Descendants Shall Enter And Flow.

True Teachers Are Those Who Use Themselves As Bridges Over Which They Invite Their Students To Cross; Then, Having Facilitated Their Crossing, Joyfully Collapse, Encouraging Them To Create Their Own.

Fools, Art Is A Heavy Task, More Heavy Than Gold Crowns; It's Far More Difficult To Match Firm Words Than Armies, They're Disciplined Troops, Unconquered, To Be Placed In Rhythm, The Mind's Most Mighty Foe, And Not Disperse In Air. I'd Give, Believe Me, A Whole Land For One Good Song, For I Know Well That Only Words, That Words Alone, Like The High Mountains, Have No Fear Of Age Or Death.

Free Yourself From One Passion To Be Dominated By Another And Nobler One. But Is Not That, Too, A Form Of Slavery? To Sacrifice Oneself To An Idea, To A Race, To God? Or Does It Mean That The Higher The Model The Longer The Longer The Tether Of Our Slavery?

I Say One Thing, You Write Another, And Those Who Read You Understand Still Something Else! I Say: Cross, Death, Kingdom Of Heaven, God...and What Do You Understand? Each Of You Attaches His Own Suffering, Interests And Desires To Each Of These Sacred Words, And My Words Disappear, My Soul Is Lost. I Can't Stand It Any Longer!

For I Realize Today That It Is A Mortal Sin To Violate The Great Laws Of Nature. We Should Not Hurry, We Should Not Be Impatient, But We Should Confidently Obey The Eternal Rhythm.

There Is Only One Woman In The World. One Woman, With Many Faces.

What Is Love? It Is Not Simply Compassion, Not Simply Kindness. In Compassion There Are Two: The One Who Suffers And The One Who Feels Compassion. In Kindness There Are Two: The One Who Gives And The One Who Receives. But In Love There Is Only One; The Two Join, Unite, Become Inseparable. The I And The You Vanish. To Love Means To Lose Oneself In The Beloved.

We Are Not Men, To Have Need Of Another, An Eternal Life; We Are Women, And For Us One Moment With Man We Love Is Everlasting Paradise, One Moment Far From The Man We Love Is Everlasting Hell. It Is Here On Earth That We Women Love Out Eternity

May He Be Cursed On Earth Who Gives His Trust To Virtue, That Bankrupt Crone Who Takes Our Life's Pure Gold And Gives But Bad Receipts For Payment In The Lower World. Ah, Passers-by That Stroll, Travelers That Come And Go, All That I Had, I Placed On Virtue, And Lost The Game!

I Believe I'm A Caterpillar Buried Deep Down Under The Ground. The Entire Earth Is Above Me, Crushing Me And I Begin To Bore Through The Soil, Making A Passage To The Surface So That I Can Penetrate The Crust And Issue Into The Light. It's Hard Work Boring Through The Entire Earth, But I'm Able To Be Patient Because I Have A Strong Premonition That As Soon As I Do Issue Into The Light I Shall Become A Butterfly.

The Human Soul Is Heavy, Clumsy, Held In The Mud Of The Flesh. Its Perceptions Are Still Coarse And Brutish. It Can Divine Nothing Clearly, Nothing With Certainty.

I Possess No Weapon But Love. With That I Have Come To Do Battle. Help Me!

I Hope For Nothing. I Fear Nothing. I Am Free.

What, Then Is Our Duty? It Is To Carefully Distinguish The Historic Moment In Which We Live And To Consciously Assign Our Small Energies To A Specific Battlefield. The More We Are In Phase With The Current Which Leads The Way, The More We Aid Man In His Difficult, Uncertain, Danger-fraught Ascent Toward Salvation.

Go As Far As You Can. Go Further Than You Can!

We Come From A Dark Abyss, We End In A Dark Abyss, And We Call The Luminous Interval Life.

All Roads Lead To The Earth; The Abyss Leads To God. Jump!

Life's True Face Is The Skull.

I Loved My Body And Did Not Want It To Perish; I Loved My Soul And Did Not Want It To Decay. I Have Fought To Reconcile These Two Primordial Forces.

The Truth Is That We All Are One, That All Of Us Together Create God, That God Is Not Man's Ancestor, But His Descendant.

Once More There Sounded Within Me The Terrible Warning That There Is Only One Life For All Men, That There Is Only One Life For All Men, That There Is No Other And That All That Can Be Enjoyed Must Be Enjoyed Here. In Eternity No Other Chance Will Be Given To Us.

The Only Thing I Know Is This: I Am Full Of Wounds And Still Standing On My Feet.

Happy Is The Man, I Thought, Who, Before Dying, Has The Good Fortune To Sail The Aegean Sea.

When I Encounter A Sunrise, A Painting, A Woman, Or An Idea That Makes My Heart Bound Like A Young Calf, Then I Know I Am Standing In Front Of Happiness.

Life Is Trouble. Only Death Is Not. To Be Alive Is To Undo Your Belt And *look* For Trouble.

No! No! Never Acknowledge The Limitations Of Man. Smash All Boundaries! Deny Whatever Your Eyes See. Die Every Moment, But Say: Death Does Not Exist.'

Three Kinds Of Souls, Three Prayers: 1) I Am A Bow In Your Hands, Lord. Draw Me, Lest I Rot. 2) Do Not Overdraw Me, Lord. I Shall Break. 3) Overdraw Me, Lord, And Who Cares If I Break.

When Everyone Drowns And I'm The Only One To Escape, God Is Protecting Me. When Everyone Else Is Saved And I'm The Only One To Drown, God Is Protecting Me Then Too.

The Major And Almost Only Theme Of All My Work Is The Struggle Of Man With "god": The Unyielding, Inextinguishable Struggle Of The Naked Worm Called "man" Against The Terrifying Power And Darkness Of The Forces Within Him And Around Him.

Die Every Day. Be Reborn Again Every Day.

This Is True Happiness: To Have No Ambition And To Work Like A Horse As If You Had Every Ambition. To Live Far From Men, Not To Need Them And Yet To Love Them. To Have The Stars Above, The Land To Your Left And The Sea To Your Right And To Realize Of A Sudden That In Your Heart, Life Has Accomplished Its Final Miracle: It Has Become A Fairy Tale.

This Book Was Not Written Because I Wanted To Offer A Supreme Model To The Man Who Struggles; I Wanted To Show Him That He Must Not Fear Pain, Temptation Or Death - Because All Three Can Be Conquered, All Three Have Already Been Conquered. Christ Suffered Pain, And Since Then Pain Has Been Sanctified. Temptation Fought Until The Very Last Moment To Lead Him Astray, And Temptation Was Defeated. Christ Died On The Cross, And At That Instant Death Was Vanquished Forever.

Thus Night With All Her Snares Passed Through The Upper World And Baited All Heads Sweetly, Fed All Foolish Hopes, For Night Can Bring To Men All Shrewish Day Denies, Wrapped As A Gift In The Green Leaves Of Opiate Dream.

Let Your Youth Have Free Reign, It Won't Come Again, So Be Bold And No Repenting.

The More Devils We Have Within Us, The More Chance We Have To Form Angels.

We Have Seen The Highest Circle Of Spiraling Powers. We Have Named This Circle God. We Might Have Given It Any Other Name We Wished: Abyss, Mystery, Absolute Darkness, Absolute Light, Matter, Spirit, Ultimate Hope, Ultimate Despair, Silence.

Two Equally Steep And Bold Paths May Lead To The Same Peak. To Act As If Death Did Not Exist, Or To Act Thinking Every Minute Of Death, Is Perhaps The Same Thing.

We Have Our Brush And Colors - Paint Paradise And In We Go.

You Can Knock On A Deaf Man's Door Forever.

Yes, There Is Weeping, Even In Heaven, But It Is For Those Who Are Still Crawling On The Earth.

With The World In The State It Is Today, Whoever Is Virtuous Must Be So To The Point Of Sainthood, And Even Beyond; Whoever Is A Sinner Must Be So To The Point Of Bestiality And Even Beyond. Today The Middle Road Is No More.

My Entire Soul Is A Cry, And All My Work Is A Commentary On That Cry.

The Highest Point A Man Can Attain Is Not Knowledge, Or Virtue, Or Goodness, Or Victory, But Something Even Greater, More Heroic And More Despairing: Sacred Awe!

The Dual Substance Of Christ - The Yearning, So Human, So Superhuman, Of Man To Attain God. [...] Has Always Been A Deep Inscrutable Mystery To Me. [...] My Principle Anguish And Source Of All My Joys And Sorrows From My Youth Onward Has Been The Incessant, Merciless Battle Between The Spirit And The Flesh. [...] And My Soul Is The Arena Where These Two Armies Have Clashed And Met.

Truly, Everything In This World Depended On Time. Time Ripened All. If You Had Time, You Succeeded In Working The Human Mud Internally And Turning It Into Spirit. Then You Did Not Fear Death. If You Did Not Have Time, You Perished.

As I Watched The Seagulls, I Thought, That's The Road To Take; Find The Absolute Rhythm And Follow It With Absolute Trust.

The Struggle Between God And Man Breaks Out In Everyone, Together With The Longing For Reconciliation. Most Often This Struggle Is Unconscious And Short-lived. A Weak Soul Does Not Have The Endurance To Resist The Flesh For Very Long. It Grows Heavy, Becomes Flesh Itself, And The Contest Ends. But Among Responsible Men, Men Who Keep Their Eyes Riveted Day And Night Upon The Supreme Duty, The Conflict Between Flesh And Spirit Breaks Out Mercilessly And May Last Until Death.

In Religions Which Have Lost Their Creative Spark, The Gods Eventually Become No More Than Poetic Motifs Or Ornaments For Decorating Human Solitude And Walls.

Be Sure To Live Up To Your Reputation For Honesty And Goodness, Because Many Souls Who Believe You To Be Honest And Good Have Placed Themselves In Your Hands.

How Simple And Frugal A Thing Is Happiness.

You Gave Me Your Curse, Holy Fathers. I Give You A Blessing: May You Be As Moral And Religious As I Am.

Every Man Has His Folly, But The Greatest Folly Of All … Is Not To Have One.

How Could I, Who Loved Life So Intensely, Have Let Myself Be Entangled For So Long In That Balderdash Of Books And Paper Blackened With Ink!

Everything In This World Has A Hidden Meaning.

You Will, Judas, My Brother. God Will Give You The Strength, As Much As You Lack, Because It Is Necessary—it Is Necessary For Me To Be Killed And For You To Betray Me. We Two Must Save The World. Help Me." Judas Bowed His Head. After A Moment He Asked, "if You Had To Betray Your Master, Would You Do It?" Jesus Reflected For A Long Time. Finally He Said, "no, I'm Afraid I Wouldn't Be Able To. That Is Why God Pitied Me And Gave Me The Easier Task: To Be Crucified.

The Landscape Affects The Human Psyche - The Soul, The Body And The Innermost Contemplations - Like Music. Every Time You Feel Nature Deeper You Resonate Better With Her, Finding New Elements Of Balance And Freedom.

Man Is Able, And Has The Duty, To Reach The Furthest Point On The Road He Has Chosen. Only By Means Of Hope Can We Attain What Is Beyond Hope.

Cursed Be All Those On Land And Sea Who Eat Their Fill, Cursed Be All Those Who Starve Yet Raise No Hand In Protest, Cursed Be All The Bread, The Wine, The Meat Which Day By Day Descends Deep In The Entrails Of The Exploited Man And Turns Not Into Freedom's Cry, The Murderer's Ruthless Knife!

I Hope For Nothing. I Fear Nothing. I Am Free. Inscription On Kazantakis's Tomb In Heraklion, Greece

You Have Your Brush, You Have Your Colors, You Paint The Paradise, Then In You Go.

God Changes Appearances Every Second. Blessed Is The Man Who Can Recognize Him In All His Disguises. One Moment He Is A Glass Of Fresh Water, The Next, Your Son Bouncing On Your Knees Or An Enchanting Woman, Or Perhaps Merely A Morning Walk.

Reach What You Cannot

There's A Devil Inside Me Which Cries, "you're Not The Son Of The Carpenter, You're The Son Of King David! You Are Not A Man, You Are The Son Of Man Whom Daniel Prophesied." And Still More: "the Son Of God! And Still More: God!

When Shall I At Last Retire Into Solitude Alone, Without Companions, Without Joy And Without Sorrow, With Only The Sacred Certainty That All Is A Dream? When, In My Rags—without Desires—shall I Retire Contented Into The Mountains? When, Seeing That My Body Is Merely Sickness And Crime, Age And Death, Shall I—free, Fearless, And Blissful—retire To The Forest? When? When, Oh When?

As Long As There Are Flowers And Children And Birds In The World, Have No Fears: Everything Will Be Fine.

Beauty Always Had A Purpose: To Be Of Service To Life.

Since We Cannot Change Reality, Let Us Change The Eyes Which See Reality.

A Slave's Soul Has No Worth, My Brothers; It Lacks Strength To Tread On This Great Earth With Gallantry And Freedom. I Pity The Poor Slaves, They're Nought But Airy Mist, A Light Breeze Scatters Them, A Fragrance Knocks Them Down; It's Only Just They Crawl On The Earth On Hands And Knees. Today I'll Write A Hymn To God And Pray For This Great Grace.

I Heard The Bells From The Future Churches, The Children Playing And Laughing In The Schoolyards [...] And Here Was An Almond Tree In Bloom Before Me: I Must Reach Out And Cut A Flowering Branch. For, By Believing Passionately In Something Which Still Does Not Exist, We Create It. The Nonexistent Is Whatever We Have Not Sufficiently Desired, Whatever We Have Not Irrigated With Our Blood To Such A Degree That It Becomes Strong Enough To Stride Across The Somber Threshold Of Nonexistence.

Only After I've Seen The Visible Can I Imagine What The Invisible Is.

As Long As Our Souls Remain Strong, That Is All That Matters; As Long As They Don't Decline. Because With The Fall Of Certain Souls In This World, The World Itself Will Collapse. These Are The Pillars Which Support It. They Are Few, But Enough.

When Everything Goes Wrong, What A Joy To Test Your Soul And See If It Has Endurance And Courage! An Invisible And All-powerful Enemy—some Call Him God, Others The Devil, Seem To Rush Upon Us To Destroy Us; But We Are Not Destroyed.

I Hate All Virtues Based On Food And Bloated Bellies; Though Food And Drink Are Good, I'm Better Slaked And Fed By That Inhuman Flame Which Burns In Our Black Bowels. I Like To Name That Flame Which Burns Within Me God!

Discipline Is The Highest Of All Virtues. Only So May Strength And Desire Be Counterbalanced And The Endeavors Of Man Bear Fruit.

The Doors Of Heaven And Hell Are Adjacent And Identical.

Be Always Restless, Unsatisfied, Unconforming. Whenever A Habit Becomes Convenient, Smash It! The Greatest Sin Of All Is Satisfaction.

To Think Things Out Properly And Fairly, A Fellow's Got To Be Calm And Old And Toothless: When You're An Old Gaffer With No Teeth, It's Easy To Say: 'damn It, Boys, You Mustn't Bite!' But, When You've Got All Thirty-two Teeth.

Every Perfect Traveler Always Creates The Country Where He Travels.

It Doesn't Matter Whether Or Not You Have A Head, You Must Wear The Right Sort Of Hat

Every Obstacle In His Journey Became A Milestone, An Occasion For Further Triumph. We Have A Model In Front Of Us Now, A Model Who Blazes Our Trail And Gives Us Strength.

My Principle Anguish And The Source Of All My Joys And Sorrows From My Youth Onward Has Been The Incessant, Merciless Battle Between The Spirit And The Flesh.

I Know Now: I Do Not Hope For Anything. I Do Not Fear Anything, I Have Freed Myself From Both The Mind And The Heart, I Have Mounted Much Higher, I Am Free .

When An Almond Tree Became Covered With Blossoms In The Heart Of Winter, All The Trees Around It Began To Jeer. 'what Vanity,' They Screamed, 'what Insolence! Just Think, It Believes It Can Bring Spring In This Way!' The Flowers Of The Almond Tree Blushed For Shame. 'forgive Me, My Sisters,' Said The Tree. 'i Swear I Did Not Want To Blossom, But Suddenly I Felt A Warm Springtime Breeze In My Heart.

Overdraw Me, Lord, And Who Cares If I Break.

In Order To Succeed, We Must First Believe That We Can.

I Said Only One Word, Brought Only One Message: Love. Love - Nothing Else.

This, I Thought, Is How Great Visionaries And Poets See Everything- As If For The First Time. Each Morning They See A New World Before Their Eyes; They Do Not Really See It, They Create It.

Today, Any Action Anywhere On Earth Has An Immediate Repercussion On All Five Continents. News Of A Victory Of The Eastern Armies In Morocco Or Shanghai Travels Instantly, Thanks To Modern Means Of Communication, To All Eastern Peoples And Fills Them With Enthusiasm And Faith. This Phenomenon Is, Of Course, Unprecedented In The History Of Man.

O Sun, Great Oriental, My Proud Mind's Golden Cap, I Love To Wear You Cocked Askew, To Play And Burst In Song Throughout Our Lives, And So Rejoice Our Hearts.

Lions And Lambs, Love And Force, Light And Fire, Good And Evil: All Things Climb The Same Mountain, The Mountain Of God.

If A Woman Sleeps Alone It Puts A Shame On All Men. God Has A Very Big Heart, But There Is One Sin He Will Not Forgive. If A Woman Calls A Man To Her Bed And He Will Not Go.

Look, One Day I Had Gone To A Little Village. An Old Grandfather Of Ninety Was Busy Planting An Almond Tree. ‘what, Grandfather!’ I Exclaimed. ‘planting An Almond Tree?’ And He, Bent As He Was, Turned Around And Said: ‘my Son, I Carry On As If I Should Never Die.’ I Replied: ‘and I Carry On As If I Was Going To Die Any Minute.’ Which Of Us Was Right, Boss?

Every Village Has Its Simpleton, And If One Does Not Exist They Invent One To Pass The Time.

Good Lord, How Can The Rich Bear To Die?

I Was Happy, I Knew That. While Experiencing Happiness, We Have Difficulty In Being Conscious Of It. Only When The Happiness Is Past And We Look Back On It Do We Suddenly Realize - Sometimes With Astonishment - How Happy We Had Been.

I Collect My Tools: Sight, Smell, Touch, Taste, Hearing, Intellect. Night Has Fallen.

You Do Miracles If You Concentrate Your Mind On One Thing And One Thing Only.

There Is No Harsher Means Of Punishment, Than To Answer Malice With Kindness.

To Cleave That Sea [the Aegean] In The Gentle Autumnal Season, Murmuring The Name Of Each Islet, Is To My Mind The Joy Most Apt To Transport The Heart Of Man Into Paradise.

Freedom Was My First Great Desire. The Second, Which Remains Hidden Within Me To This Day, Tormenting Me, Was The Desire For Sanctity. Hero Together With Saint: Such Is Mankind's Supreme Model.

I Surrender Myself To Everything. I Love, I Feel Pain, I Struggle. The World Seems To Me Wider Than The Mind, My Heart A Dark And Almighty Mystery.

No Wide Road Leads To God.

Happy The Youth Who Believes That His Duty Is To Remake The World And Bring It More In Accord With Virtue And Justice, More In Accord With His Own Heart. Woe To Whoever Commences His Life Without Lunacy.

He Who Is Invisible Sees More Clearly, Hears More Clearly, And Is Better Able To Read The Thoughts Of Men.

It Was Certainly Not This Mummified And Outrageously Painted Old Woman He Was Seeing Before Him, But The Entire "female Species," As It Was His Custom To Call Women. The Individual Disappeared, The Features Were Obliterated, Whether Young Or Senile, Beautiful Or Ugly - Those Were Mere Unimportant Variations. Behind Each Woman Rises The Austere, Sacred And Mysterious Face Of Aphrodite.

God, What Is All This Talk Put Out By The Popes? Paradise Is Here, My Good Man. God, Give Me No Other Paradise!

I Felt This Was My Duty, My Sole Duty: To Reconcile The Irreconcilables, To Draw The Thick Ancestral Darkness Out Of My Loins And Transform It, To The Best Of My Ability, Into Light.

How Does The Light Of A Star Set Out And Plunge Into Black Eternity In Its Immortal Course? The Star Dies, But The Light Never Dies; Such Also Is The Cry Of Freedom.

We're Going To Start With Small, Easy Things; Then, Little By Little We Shall Try Our Hand At The Big Things. And After That, After We Finish The Big Things, We Shall Undertake The Impossible.

The Canary Is Like A Man's Soul. It Sees Bars Around It, But Instead Of Despairing, It Sings.

The Only Way To Save Yourself Is To Endeavor To Save Others.

All My Life One Of My Greatest Desires Has Been To Travel-to See And Touch Unknown Countries, To Swim In Unknown Seas, To Circle The Globe, Observing New Lands, Seas, People, And Ideas With Insatiable Appetite, To See Everything For The First Time And For The Last Time, Casting A Slow, Prolonged Glance, Then To Close My Eyes And Feel The Riches Deposit Themselves Inside Me Calmly Or Stormily According To Their Pleasure, Until Time Passes Them At Last Through Its Fine Sieve, Straining The Quintessence Out Of All The Joys And Sorrows.

A Person Needs A Little Madness, Or Else They Never Dare Cut The Rope And Be Free.

I Should Learn To Run, To Wrestle, To Swim, To Ride Horses, To Row, To Drive A Car, To Fire A Rifle. I Should Fill My Soul With Flesh. I Should Fill My Flesh With Soul. In Fact, I Should Reconcile At Last Within Me The Two Internal Antagonists.

By Believing Passionately In Something That Still Does Not Exist, We Create It. The Nonexistent Is Whatever We Have Not Sufficiently Desired.

Since We Cannot Change Reality, Let Us Change The Eyes Which See Reality," Says One Of My Favorite Byzantine Mystics. I Did This When A Child; I Do It Now As Well In The Most Creative Moments Of My Life.

I Said To The Almond Tree, 'sister, Speak To Me Of God.' And The Almond Tree Blossomed.

I've Stopped Thinking All The Time Of What Happened Yesterday. And Stopped Asking What's Going To Happen Tomorrow. What's Happening Today, This Minute, Is What I Care About.

Whoever Climbed The Lord's Mountain Had To Possess Clean Hands And An Innocent Heart; Otherwise The Summit Would Kill Him. Today The Doorway Is Deserted. Soiled Hands And Sinful Hearts Are Able To Pass By Without Fear, For The Summit Kills No Longer.

Everything In This World Has A Hidden Meaning, I Thought. Men, Animals, Trees, Stars, They Are All Hieroglyphics; Woe To Anyone Who Begins To Decipher Them And Guess What They Mean.... When You See Them, You Do Not Understand Them. You Think They Are Really Men, Animals, Trees, Stars. It Is Only Years Later, Too Late, That You Understand.

Death's Dry Bones Glowed With Light In The Erotic Dark But He Woke Not Nor Felt The Two Warm Bodies Merge; The Male Worm Then Took Heart And In His Wife's Ear Whispered: "with One Sweet Kiss, Dear Wife, We've Conquered Conquering Death!

The Heart Unites Whatever The Mind Separates, Pushes On Beyond The Arena Of Necessity And Transmutes The Struggle Into Love.

By Believing Passionately In That Which Doesn't Exist, You Create It And That Which Has Not Been Sufficiently Desired Is What We Call The Non Existent.

I Was Ill Before I Fell Ill.

A Woman's Body Is A Dark And Monstrous Mystery; Between Her Supple Thighs A Heavy Whirlpool Swirls, Two Rivers Crash, And Woe To Him Who Slips And Falls!

The Sole Way To Save Oneself Is To Save Others. Or To Struggle To Save Others -even That Is Sufficient.

A Magical Portal Opened Inside My Mind And Conducted Me Into An Astonishing World. [...] Before This Moment I Had Divined But Had Never Known With Such Positiveness That The World Is Extremely Large And That Suffering And Toil Are The Companions And Fellow Warriors Not Only Of Cretan, But Of Every Man. [...] That By Means Of Poetry All This Suffering And Effort Could Be Transformed Into Dream; No Matter How Much Of The Ephemeral Existed, Poetry Could Immortalize It By Turning It Into Song.

If Only We Know, Boss, What The Stones And Rain And Flowers Say. Maybe They Call-call Us-and We Don't Hear Them. When Will People's Ears Open, Boss? When Shall We Have Our Eyes Open To See? When Shall We Open Our Arms To Embrace Everything-stones, Rain, Flowers, And People? What Do You Think About That, Boss? And What Do Your Books Have To Say About That?

All Those Who Actually Live The Mysteries Of Life Haven't The Time To Write, And All Those Who Have The Time Don't Live Them! D'you See?

My Soul Comes From Better Worlds And I Have An Incurable Homesickness Of The Stars.

Time Is Round, And It Rolls Quickly.

The Ultimate, Most Holy Form Of Theory Is Action.

All My Life I Struggled To Stretch My Mind To The Breaking Point, Until It Began To Creak, In Order To Create A Great Thought Which Might Be Able To Give A New Meaning To Life, A New Meaning To Death, And To Console Mankind.

Before Me Is The Abyss. How Can I Leap Across It? And If I Do Not Leap, How Shall I Ever Be Able To Reach God?

To Succeed, You Must First Believe You Can.

What Happiness This Is: To Fly, Skimming Over The Earth Just As We Do In Our Dreams! Life Has Become A Dream. Can This Be The Meaning Of Paradise?

Inexperience Loves To Preach.

Lord, Bend Me, Or I Shall Rot. Lord Do Not Bend Me Too Much, For I Shall Break. Lord Bend Me Too Much, Who Cares If I Break!

I Felt Once More How Simple And Frugal A Thing Is Happiness: A Glass Of Wine, A Roast Chestnut, A Wretched Little Brazier, The Sound Of The Sea. Nothing Else.

What First Truly Stirred My Soul Was Not Fear Or Pain, Nor Was It Pleasure Or Games; It Was The Yearning For Freedom. I Had To Gain Freedom-but From What, From Whom? Little By Little, In The Course Of Time, I Mounted Freedom's Rough Unaccommodating Ascent. To Gain Freedom First Of All From The Turk, That Was The Initial Step; After That, Later, This New Struggle Began: To Gain Freedom From The Inner Turk-from Ignorance, Malice And Envy, From Fear And Laziness, From Dazzling False Ideas; And Finally From Idols, All Of Them, Even The Most Revered And Beloved.

Man Hurries, God Does Not. That Is Why Man's Works Are Uncertain And Maimed, While God's Are Flawless And Sure. My Eyes Welling With Tears, I Vowed Never To Transgress This Eternal Law Again. Like A Tree I Would Be Blasted By Wind, Struck By Sun And Rain, And Would Wait With Confidence; The Long-desired Hour Of Flowering And Fruit Would Come.

Within This Arena, Which Grows More Stable Night After Day, Generations Work And Love And Hope And Vanish. New Generations Tread On The Corpses Of Their Fathers, Continue The Work Above The Abyss And Struggle To Tame The Dread Mystery. How? By Cultivating A Single Field, By Kissing A Woman, By Studying A Stone, An Animal, An Idea.

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