http://www.amazon.com/Siddhartha-Hermann-Hesse/dp/0553208845/ref=cm_cr_pr_pb_i
I can think. I can wait. I can fast. p46
He saw people living in a childish or animal-like way, which he both loved and despised. He saw them toiling, saw them suffer and grow gray about things that to him did not seem worth the price—for money, small pleasures and trivial honors. he saw them scold and hurt each other; he saw them lament over pains at which the Samana laughs, and suffer at deprivations which a Samana does not feel. p57
And at that moment, in that splendid hour, after his wonderful sleep, permeated with Om, how could he help but love someone and something. That was just the magic that had happened to him during his sleep and the Om in him—he loved everything, he was full of joyous love towards everything that he saw. And it seemed to him that was just why he was previously so ill—because he could love nothing and nobody. p76
Siddhartha now also realized why he had struggled in vain with this Self when he was a Brahmin and an ascetic. Too much knowledge had hindered him; too many holy verses, too many sacrificial rites, too much mortification of the flesh, too much doing and striving. He had been full of arrogance; he had always been the cleverest, the most eager—always a step ahead of the others, always the learned and intellectual one, always the priest or the sage. His Self had crawled into this priesthood, into this arrogance, into this intellectuality. p80-81
Above all, he learned from it (the river) how to listen, without passion, without desire, without judgement, without opinions. p87
There is no such thing as time... The river is everywhere at the same time, at the source and at the mouth, at the waterfall, at the ferry, at the current, in the ocean and in the mountains, everywhere, and that the present only exists for it, not the shadow of the past, nor the shadow of the future. p87
Nothing was, nothing will be, everything has reality and presence. p87
"the voice of all living creatures are in its (river's) voice." p88
They both listened silently to the water, which to them was not just water, but the voice of life, the voice of Being, of perpetual Becoming. p88
A true seeker could not accept any teachings, not if he sincerely wished to find something. But he who had found, could give his approval to every path, every goal; nothing separated him from all the other thousands who lived in eternity, who breathed the Divine. p90
Siddhartha looked at Vasudeva and smiled at him. "She is dying," said Siddhartha softly. p92
"You have suffered, Siddharthat, yet, I see that sadness has not entered your heart." p94
gentleness is stronger than severity, water is stronger than rock, love is stronger than force. p97
"... which father, which teacher, could prevent him from living his own life, from soiling himself with life, from loading himself with sin, from swallowing the bitter drink himself, from finding his own path? Do you think, my dear friend, that anybody is spared this path? Perhaps your little son, because you would like to see him spared sorrow and pain and disillusionment? But if you were to die ten times for him, you would not alter his destiny in the slightest." p98
It was true that he had never fully lost himself in another person to such an extent as to forget himself; he had never undergone the follies of love for another person. He had never been able to do this, and it had then seemed to him that this was the biggest difference between him and the ordinary people. But now, since his son was there, he, Siddhartha, had become completely like one of the people, through sorrow, through loving. He was madly in love, a fool because of love. p99
Because the wound did not heal during that hour, he was sad. p103
With the exception of one small thing, one tiny little thing, they lacked nothing that the sage and thinker had, and that was the consciousness of the unity of all life. p106
(I disagree a little with this line because of my experience with Ch'an in China, Zen in Japan)
The wisdom and goal of his long seeking: It was nothing but a preparation of the soul, a capacity, a secret art of thinking, feeling and breathing thoughts of unity at every moment of life. This thought matured in him slowly, and it was reflected in Vasudeva's old childlike face: harmony, knowledge of the eternal perfection of the world, and unity. p106-107
Disclosing his wound to this listener was the same as bathing it in the river, until it become cool and one with the river. p108
Siddhartha listened attentively to this river, to this song of a thousand voices; when he did not listen to the sorrow or laughter, when he did not bind his soul to any one particular voice and absorb it in his Self, but heard them all, the whole, the unity; then the great song of a thousand voices consisted of one word: Om—perfection. p111
His wound was healing, his pain was dispersing; his Self had merged into unity.
From that hour Siddharthat ceased to fight against his destiny. There shone in his face the serenity of knowledge, of one who is no longer confronted with conflict of desires, who has found salvation, who is in harmony with the stream of events, with the stream of life, full of sympathy and compassion, surrendering himself to the stream, belonging to the unity of all things. p111
I am still of the same turn of mind, although I have, since that time, had many teachers. p114
Seeking means: to have a goal; but finding means: to be free, to be receptive, to have no goal. p115
Wisdom is not communicable. p115
In every truth the opposite is equally true. For example, a truth can only be expressed and enveloped in words if it is one-sided. Everything that is thought and expressed in words is one-sided, only half the truth; it all lacks totality, completeness, unity. p115
The world is perfect at every moment. p116
I can love a stone, a tree, or a piece of bark. These are things and one can love things. But one cannot love words. Therefore teachings are of no use to me; ... Perhaps that is what prevents you from finding peace, perhaps there too many words, for even salvation and virtue. p117-118
Love is the most important thing in the world. p119
How, indeed, could he not know love, he who has recognized all humanity's vanity and transitoriness, yet loves humanity so much that he has devoted a long life solely to help and teach people? p119
No longer knowing whether time existed, whether this display had lasted a second or a hundred years, whether there was a Siddhartha, or a Gotama, a Self and others... p122
He (Govinda) was overwhelmed by a feeling of great love, of the most humble veneration. p122
Atman
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C4%80tman_%28Hinduism%29
Satya
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Satya
Brahman
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brahman
Brahma
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brahm%C4%81
