If you follow the classical pattern, you are understanding the routine, the tradition, the shadow -- you are not understanding yourself.

It is futile to argue as to which single leaf, which design of branch, or which attractive flower you like; when you understand the root, you understand all its blossoming.

I understood myself only after I destroyed myself. And only in the process of fixing myself, did I know who I really was.

A person who understands oneself truly knows really the hidden intention of others as well.

Every heartbeat a syllable for words I can’t speak, to explain what I want from him. What I want from myself. To know and be known, totally and completely. To be someone worth knowing.

There’s nothing as significant as a human face. Nor as eloquent. We can never really know another person, except by our first glance at him. Because, in that glance, we know everything. Even though we’re not always wise enough to unravel the knowledge.