DEMIAN BY HERMANN HESSE
All I really wanted was to try and live the life that was spontaneously welling up within me. Why was that so very difficult?
I have no right to call myself one who knows. I was one who seeks, and I still am, but I no longer seek in the stars or in books; I’m beginning to hear the teachings of my blood pulsing within me.
We all come out of the same abyss; but each of us, a trial throw of the dice from the depths, strives toward his own goal. We can understand one another, but each of us can only interpret himself.
“Come,” he called after a while, “let’s practice a little philosophy now; that is, let’s shut up, lie on our stomachs, and think.”
If nature has made you a bat, you shouldn’t try to turn yourself into an ostrich.
Look into the fire, look into the clouds, and as soon as your presentiments come and the voices in your soul begin to speak, surrender yourself to them and don’t start off by asking whether that suits or pleases your teacher, your father, or some God or other! If you do that, you’ll ruin yourself.
“Ah, every religion is beautiful. Religion is soul, whether you take Communion as a Christian or you make a pilgrimage to Mecca.”
“It’s always difficult to be born. As you know, the bird must make an effort to break out of the egg. Think back and ask: Was the path really that difficult? Merely difficult? Wasn’t it also beautiful? Could you have thought of a more beautiful or easier one?”
We were separated from the majority of people not by frontiers but merely by a different way of seeing.