I have realized that the past and future are real illusions, that they exist in the present, which is what there is and all there is.
You and I are all as much continuous with the physical universe as a wave is continuous with the ocean.
How is it possible that a being with such sensitive jewels as the eyes, such enchanted musical instruments as the ears, and such fabulous arabesque of nerves as the brain can experience itself anything less than a god.
Things are as they are. Looking out into it the universe at night, we make no comparisons between right and wrong stars, nor between well and badly arranged constellations.
But at any rate, the point is that God is what nobody admits to being, and everybody really is.
I do not dispute with the world; rather it is the world that disputes with me.
Should a seeker not find a companion who is better or equal, let them resolutely pursue a solitary course.
The thing that is disliked by me is also disliked by others. Since I dislike this thing, how can I inflict it on someone else?