“Peace can be made only by those who are peaceful, and love can be shown only by those who love. No work of love will flourish out of guilt, fear, or hollowness of heart, just as no valid plans for the future can be made by those who have no capacity for living now.”

“No work or love will flourish out of guilt, fear, or hollowness of heart, just as no valid plans for the future can be made by those who have no capacity for living now.”

“The startling truth is that our best efforts for civil rights, internationalpeace, population control, conservation of natural resources, andassistance to the starving of the earth—urgent as they are—will destroyrather than help if made in the present spirit. For, as things stand, wehave nothing to give. If our own riches and our own way of life are notenjoyed here, they will not be enjoyed anywhere else. Certainly theywill supply the immediate jolt of energy and hope that methedrine, andsimilar drugs, give in extreme fatigue. But peace can be made only bythose who are peaceful, and love can be shown only by those who love.No work of love will flourish out of guilt, fear, or hollowness of heart,just as no valid plans for the future can be made by those who have nocapacity for living now.”

“...[W]ords can be communicative only between those who share similar experiences.”

“For unless one is able to live fully in the present, the future is a hoax.There is no point whatever in making plans for a future which you willnever be able to enjoy. When your plans mature, you will still be livingfor some other future beyond. You will never, never be able to sit backwith full contentment and say, "Now, I've arrived!" Your entireeducation has deprived you of this capacity because it was preparingyou for the future, instead of showing you how to be alive now.”

“Advice? I don’t have advice. Stop aspiring and start writing. If you’re writing, you’re a writer. Write like you’re a goddamn death row inmate and the governor is out of the country and there’s no chance for a pardon. Write like you’re clinging to the edge of a cliff, white knuckles, on your last breath, and you’ve got just one last thing to say, like you’re a bird flying over us and you can see everything, and please, for God’s sake, tell us something that will save us from ourselves. Take a deep breath and tell us your deepest, darkest secret, so we can wipe our brow and know that we’re not alone. Write like you have a message from the king. Or don’t. Who knows, maybe you’re one of the lucky ones who doesn’t have to.”

“Man suffers only because he takes seriously what the gods made for fun.”