The writer doesn’t write for the reader. He doesn’t write for himself, either. He writes to serve…something. Somethingness. The somethingness that is sheltered by the wings of nothingness — those exquisite, enveloping, protecting wings.

The more severely he struggles to hold on to the primal face-to-face relation with God, the more tenuous this becomes, until in the end the relation to God Himself threatens to become a relation to Nothingness.

Nothing will unfold for us unless we move toward whatlooks to us like nothing: faith is a cascade.

I preach darkness. I don't inspire hope—only shadows. It's up to you to find the light in my words.

-What is nothing? I impetuously asked.-It is what you can see of your eyes without a mirror, was the answer.

Don't ever underestimate the value and power of doing nothing sometime.

The wise man is one who knows, the significance and nothingness of his life.

Alone, I often fall down into nothingness. I must push my foot stealthily lest I should fall off the edge of the world into nothingness. I have to bang my head against some hard door to call myself back to the body.

They laboriously do nothing.

But I don't want to write my own fiction,' Cath said, as emphatically as she could. 'I don't want to write my own characters or my own worlds -- I don't care about them. . . . I'd rather pour myself into a world I love and understand than try to make something up out of nothing.