Let everything human be considered human; let nothing human be considered divine.

Another person: a door you can't enter, even by knocking.

Al other creatures use their intelligence to survive. We use ours to destroy ourselves.

Let nothing human be considered sacred. Let nothing human be considered divine.

The workings of the human heart are the profoundest mystery of the universe. One moment they make us despair of our kind, and the next we see in them the reflection of the divine image.

And as the ax bites into the wood, be comforted in the fact that the ache in your heart and the confusion in your souls means that you are still alive, still human, and still open to the beauty of the world, even though you have done nothing to deserve it.