Rajneesh Quotes

Life has never interested me so much as the escape from life.

Chekhov is this poet of melancholy and isolation and of wishing you were somewhere else than where you are.

South Bend is a nice town, but you know that phrase - 'I was homesick even when I was home.'

One metaphor for how we are living is that you see so may people with cell phones. In restaurants, walking, they have cell phones clamped to their to heads. When they are on their cell phones they are not where their bodies are...they are somewhere else in hyperspace. They are not grounded. We have become disembodied. By being always somewhere else we are nowhere.

Do you ever have the feeling you're a tourist on earth?

As from a star I saw, coldly and soberly, the separateness of everything. I felt the wall of my skin; I am I. That stone is a stone. My beautiful fusion with the things of this world was over.

The human comedy does not attract me enough. I am not entirely of this world. I am from elsewhere, and it is worth finding this elsewhere beyond the walls...but where is it?

I'm full of restlessness. Not lonely, exactly - my head is racing with ideas. But it is that old treacherous feeling that real life is happening somewhere else, and I'm left out.

A lot of people enjoy being dead. But they are not dead, really. They're just backing away from life.

More and more I feel like a letter—deposited here, collected there. But a letter addressed to no one.

Her life was a slow realization that the world was not for her and that for whatever reason she would never be happy and honest at the same time. She felt as if she were brimming always producing and hoarding more love inside her. But there was no release. table ivory elephant charm rainbow onion hairdo violence melodrama honey...None of it moved her. She addressed the world honestly searching for something deserving of the volumes of love she knew she had within her but to each she would have to say I don't love you.

You never come back, not all the way. Always there is an odd distance between you and the people you love and the people you meet, a barrier thin as the glass of a mirror, you never come all the way out of the mirror; you stand, for the rest of your life, with one foot in this world and no one in another, where everything is upside down and backward and sad.

Life is islands of ecstasy in an ocean of ennui, and after the age of thirty land is seldom seen.

We have often had this particular exchange about climate and landscape and why we both feel so lonely here uprooted. It was what each of us had wanted of course.Besides wanting to experience a place we hated, we wanted to be insomniacs and loners, losers and drop-outs. To know the sky was the only location of meaning and joy left to us.

I couldn't say who I am, I haven't the remotest notion of myself; I am someone without antecedents, without a history, without a country, and on that I insist!

I had learned so much about the world that I had decided to withdraw from it.

And there are new kinds of nomads, not people who are at home everywhere, but who are at home nowhere. I was one of them

Modern man has both feet firmly planted in mid-air

The mere passage of time makes us all exiles.

I do desire we may be better strangers.

He's worked his entire life and he's never lived a single moment, I mean not a moment, in the real world.

The thinking man always finds himself in a gigantic orphanage in which people are continually proving to him that he has no parents.

I foresaw my life unfolding as an interminable stretch of nothingness and so I spent my years on Tinos floundering, feeling like a stand-in for myself, a proxy, as though my real self resided elsewhere, waiting to unite someday with this dimmer, more hollow self. I felt marooned. An exile in my own home

True life is elsewhere

Theories have nothing to do with life.