Oh, scientific mind. You get all your data from us, the senses, but without us you would be nothing.

What I thought was unreal now, for me, seems in some ways to be more real than what I think to be real, which seems now to be unreal

Reality gets created through acts of observation

When you start to try to understand everything in terms of words, the understanding of the words becomes the experience, and the experience gets lost.

Consciousness is the creative element in the universe. Without it, nothing would appear.

I read that Buddha was able to see all of his past lives, and I realized the only way any of these people could do that is by being outside of time.

The quantum is that embarrassing little piece of thread that always hangs from the sweater of space-time. Pull it and the whole thing unravels.

The self is fundamentally an illusion arising as a reflection of the soul in matter, much as a clear lake at midnight reflects the moon.

People who are creative often will spend hours doing something and come out of their period of creation and not even notice that hours have passed. In that sense, they're able to time travel.

You had to be able to lift yourself outside of the time stream - and that essentially became what is called the yoga of time travel.

In very subtle ways, how we regard ourselves and others continually changes us into something new.

Fear breeds a desire for simplicity. Good and evil. Right and wrong. Chains of command.

For more irresponsible that human beings can be, nature always finds (not always healthy) a way to teach us how to be treated.

I'll walk through the fireWith my head lifted highAnd my spirit revivedIn Your story

I learned much too late that what you called love was nothing but a desperate and irrational fear of a life lived alone.

If you can cull an animal, or kill a human, and sleep well, does not mean you are any more well than a sick animal.

The most fatal illusion is the settled point of view. Since life is growth and motion a fixed point of view kills anybody who has one.

That best portion of a man's life, his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love.

I know the dark delight of being strange, The penalty of difference in the crowd, The loneliness of wisdom among fools.

Because I'm not attached to the outcome, I don't have to worry whether I succeed or fail.

The Anza Borrego Desert is a place of power, where different planes and realities intersect. It is easier to see and enter into other planes here.