Looking back, I wish that everyone could have that sort of moment: a moment where you realize that your hands are so impossibly small and this world is so impossibly big. And the two don__ seem to add up. Maybe recognizing the smallness of your own hands is just the very first step to changing anything at all.

I have found so many angels trapped inside undisputed jargon that I find myself digging at the words, in order to release them, from the books that unfairly captured their soul.

To worship a sacred mystery was just to worship your own ignorance.

Every mystery ever solved had been a puzzle from the dawn of the human species right up until someone solved it.

You can only arrive at mastery by practicing the techniques you have learned, facing challenges and apprehending them, using to the fullest the tools you have been taught, until they shatter in your hands and you are left in the midst of wreckage absolute... I cannot create masters. I have never known how to create masters. Go, then, and fail... You have been shaped into something that may emerge from the wreckage, determined to remake your Art. I cannot create masters, but if you had not been taught, your chances would be less. The higher road begins after the Art seems to fail you; though the reality will be that it was you who failed your Art.

sometimes being tall helps you build self confidence. But knowing that you are small makes you unpredictable thus small things have bigger impact to big things.