True states of realization occur when you throw away all the teachings. All of the teachings, absolutely. Everything. Then you are investigation itself finding out what you are.

Your career, interests and relationships are important, but they are only important insofar as they lead you toward a deeper understanding of yourself. Otherwise, they are irrelevant.

To contact the deeper truth of who we are, we must engage in some activity or practice that questions what we assume to be true about ourselves.

To truly find God, truth needs to be found independently from the opinions of others. The truth has to be found in our hearts.

You are not the feelings or the thoughts or the contents of your awareness. None of these are who you are. You are the fullness of your Being, the substance of your presence.

Directing the process by the mind can only lead to difficulty, for the mind does not know. Commitment to the Truth is sufficient for the process to unfold.

Are you really angry, or simply aware of anger in the body and mind? Don't speculate, simply look at what is there.

Every single phenomenon in the world, has a physical explanation underneath it. Finding the explanation depends on how far you are willing to go.

The greatest enemy is one that has nothing to lose.

You only walk this path once. Make sure you take time to stop and enjoy the nice things. You can't smell last years roses.

I know who I am.

Putting a piece of you in your protagonist adds depth and merges the worlds of fiction and reality.

With begging and scrambling we find very little but with being true to ourselves we find a great deal more.

The moment right now, it's a tragically regressive time we live in, you know. We just grounded the Concorde. Where's the future? We've lost the future.

I'm loath to do interviews. What comes out is generally not what I meant or thought I was saying or thought they were asking.

When it's a folk festival, there's more of an intention on the song and connecting with people.

It was roses, roses, all the way, With myrtle mixed in my path like mad.