Siddhartha

by Hermann Hesse

Once all of my self was overcome and had died, once every desire and every urge was silent in the heart, then the ultimate part of me had to awake, the innermost of my being, which is no longer my self, the great secret.

We are not going around in circles, we are moving up, the circle is a spiral,

The purpose and the essential properties were not somewhere behind the things, they were in them, in everything.

Beautiful was this world, looking at it thus, without searching, thus simply, thus childlike.

Beautiful and lovely it was, thus to walk through the world, thus childlike, thus awoken, thus open to what is near, thus without distrust.

Both, the thoughts as well as the senses, were pretty things, the ultimate meaning was hidden behind both of them, both had to be listened to, both had to be played with, both neither had to be scorned nor overestimated, from both the secret voices of the innermost truth had to be attentively perceived.

Not eternal is the world of appearances,

Nothing was, nothing will be; everything is, everything has existence and is present."

he preferred the suffering and worries of love over happiness and joy without the boy.

Which father, which teacher had been able to protect him from living his life for himself, from soiling himself with life, from burdening himself with guilt, from drinking the bitter drink for himself, from finding his path for himself? Would you think, my dear, anybody might perhaps be spared from taking this path?

even if you would die ten times for him, you would not be able to take the slightest part of his destiny upon yourself."

It was nothing but a readiness of the soul, an ability, a secret art, to think every moment, while living his life, the thought of oneness, to be able to feel and inhale the oneness.

wisdom cannot be passed on. Wisdom which a wise man tries to pass on to someone always sounds like foolishness."