Author of quotes: Angel de Kuate. Page 23

Mistaken are those who think that Heaven and Hell await us after death; they are with us in every moment of this life, but on the other side of it, from the inside.

This world is a mountain, and our deeds are shouts. The echo of our shouts always comes back to us.

Why do we love?..
Really strange question. It seems ridiculous, even absurd. But why? Why we never think about it? Why not ask yourself: "Why do you love? What's the point?"
Everything in this world has some meaning. There is nothing useless or random. So, this goal should be love... and we don't know her.
The pragmatist will say that love is just physical. He says that love is needed for procreation. But is it for procreation it is not enough just physical attraction? And how then to be with the love of their parents, to friends, to God, finally? Why do I get this feeling? It is not enough affection, respect, admiration? Why love?
Love brings suffering, but this too must be some meaning. It can't be that spiritual work and suffering of the loving sensible! But as it turns out... Everyone knows this from my own experience.
Painful, exhausting running in a circle: void - love - flour - again a void and love again. And now we are overcome by a single desire - to hide, to leave, to forget, not to think. A man who knows pain, fear. He is afraid of a repetition of the flour. He wants love, wants to get to her sinister, seductive maelstrom.
Fear of love haunts a person. Because to love means to lose oneself, to lose the sense of support. Loving renounces his "I" puts himself in the hands of the beloved. It's like jumping off a skyscraper - it is fascinating and frightening. Fascinating horror - that's what love is.
Two things - love and death - the great mystery hidden under the veils of fear. We are unable to penetrate these mysteries. They remain for us a mystery - not clear, hidden, forbidden.
The heavens are sending us love, Heaven condemn us to death without asking any of our willingness nor our desire. They both love and death, like Rock, like the finger of Fate, to command our lives. And we don't know them, can't understand, and don't even see sense in them...

How often a person has to choose between bird in the hand and a crane hovering over his head. But in fact he chooses between fears. He is afraid to leave everything as it is, if it is not satisfied. And is afraid that will not achieve what the hopes, but lost a bird.

Grandfather taught me that the reality we see is created by our consciousness that it is a phantom, a complex illusion, a Mirage. But the dream is true reality. We don't know the true nature of things, moreover, we do not understand ourselves. We only think that we know our true self, but in reality it is an illusion. People are much more difficult than he thinks of himself. But the main thing - it is fragmented, divided. Our dream is a kind of performance in which all the roles are divided between our constituent parts. And only if man is able to establish a genuine link between the elements of his dream, he learns his "I".