Kamaswami conducted his business with care and often with passion, but Siddhartha looked upon all of this as if it were a game, the rules of which he tried hard to learn precisely, but the subject of which did not touch his heart.

What might you be able to do?” “I can think. I can wait. I can fast.” “Nothing else?” “Nothing.

Too much knowledge had been holding him back, too many holy verses, sacrificial rules, self-castigation, and striving for this goal! He had always been full of arrogance, the most intelligent, the most zealous worker, one step ahead of the others, the knowing and spiritual one, the priest or the wise one. His self had retreated into this arrogance,

At some time, when I’m older, I want to bear your child. And even so, dear one, you’ve remained a Samana. You still don’t love me; you love nobody. Isn’t that so?” “It might very well be so,” Siddhartha said tiredly. “I am like you. You also do not love—how else could you practice love as a craft? Perhaps people of our kind can’t love. The

He was, regarding love, still a boy and had a tendency to plunge blindly and insatiably into lust like into a bottomless pit; she taught him, starting with the basics, about that school of thought which teaches that pleasure cannot be taken without giving pleasure, and that every gesture, every caress, every touch, every look, every area of the

And at several times he suddenly became alarmed on account of such thoughts and wanted to be gifted with the ability to participate, with passion and with all his heart, in all of the childish and naïve occupations of the daytime. He really wanted to live, to act, and to enjoy instead of just standing by as a spectator.

See you’ve already learned this from the water: that it is good to strive downwards, to sink and to seek depth.

These words are not sufficient for this secret meaning. Everything always comes out a little differently as soon as it is put into words. It gets distorted slightly and seems a bit silly—yes, this is also very good and I like it quite a bit, and I agree with the idea that what is one man’s treasure and wisdom always sounds like foolishness to

And then, for an hour, he became aware of the strange life he was leading. He perceived himself doing lots of things which were only a game; he saw that, although happy and joyous at times, that real life was passing him by without touching him.