Hazrat Inayat Khan Quotes

When people talk to me about the weather, I always feel they mean something else.

No matter what you say in carefully chosen sentences, girls will detect both the spoken and unspoken messages.

it's way too early for him to be talking anyhow but I see in his eyes something and I see in his eyes a voice and I see in his eyes a whole new set of words

Art like life is an open secret.

Speech is but broken light upon the depth Of the unspoken.

Words of the world are the life of the world.

We have only two sources of information about the character of the people around us: we judge them by what they do and by what they say (particularly the first).

Meaning is not in things but in between them.

Or perhaps all those things you missed upon first glance mean much more than you could ever guess.

And then, 'Why is a raven like a writing desk?' Those things just became so important to the character. You realize that the more you read it, if I read the book again today, I'd find 100 other things that I missed last time. It's a constantly changing book.

I see things, that's all. Write enough stories and every shadow on the floor looks like a footprint; every line in the dirt like a secret message.

We pass through the present with our eyes blindfolded. We are permitted merely to sense and guess at what we are actually experiencing. Only later when the cloth is untied can we glance at the past and find out what we have experienced and what meaning it has.

He looks at me, and I don't know what he sees. I used to think it was Rose. But she's not here with us now, in this room. It's just him and me, and the books. I feel like our lives are in those books. I feel like all the words on the pages are for us.

You know, two people can say exactly the same words, saying the same story, and it would mean something entirely different.

Who cares what the color means? How do you know what he meant to say? I mean, did he leave another book called "Symbolism in My Books?" If he didn't, then you could just be making all of this up. Does anyone really think this guy sat down and stuck all kinds of hidden meanings into his story? It's just a story.... But I think you are making all of this symbolism stuff up. I don't believe any of it.

The observer is the observed.

Thoughts exchanged by one and another are not the same in one room as in another.

Poems reveal secrets when they are analyzed. The poet's pleasure in finding ingenious ways to enclose her secrets should be matched by the reader's pleasure in unlocking and revealing these secrets.

It was easier to know a character's point of view than it was to figure out what your point of view was.

Transmitting information is easier than creating understanding.

That others grasp what I have in mind seems unessential, at least as long as they have something else in theirs.

That was the thing about pictures--they were worth a thousand words, but sometimes they weren't the right ones.

But it seems impossible to speak and yet say nothing, you think you have succeeded, but you always overlook something.

The words we read and words we write never say exactly what we mean. The people we love are never just as we desire them. The two symbola never perfectly match. Eros is in between.