Your visions will become clear only when you can look into your own heart. Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.

Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.

Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves.

To find out what is truly individual in ourselves, profound reflection is needed; and suddenly we realize how uncommonly difficult the discovery of individuality is.

We search for happiness everywhere, but we are like Tolstoy's fabled beggar who spent his life sitting on a pot of gold, under him the whole time. Your treasure--your perfection--is within you already. But to claim it, you must leave the buy commotion of the mind and abandon the desires of the ego and enter into the silence of the heart.

Why is it that we so easily confide secrets to strangers that we so carefully hide from ourselves?