The universe is not cruel, nor is it kind — it is simply what it is, and we are the creatures who discovered sorrow by learning to want what it cannot give us.

The river is everywhere at once, at the source and at the mouth, at the waterfall, at the ferry, at the rapids, in the sea, in the mountains, everywhere at once, and that there is only the present time for it, not the shadow of the past, not the shadow of the future.

The human body is not a thing or substance, given, but a continuous creation. The human body is an energy system which is never a complete structure; never static; is in perpetual inner self-construction and self-destruction; we destroy in order to make it new.

The mind is like a river. While it flows, it is never the same water; and while it thinks, it is never the same thought.

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When Do We Become Adults, Really?

Dividing life into stages is an ancient, unifying urge—an effort to contain something altogether too fluid, like trying to hold water in a cardboard box.