“Your still searching for me in every woman. You'll always seek to duplicate what we had. You know it.”

“Always believe in your dreams, because if you don't, you'll still have hope.”

“Searching for truth is itself a big illusion because whatever we term the truth is always and everywhere. We don't have to search for it; we don't have to seek it; it always is. Now the only problem is your inability to experience life beyond what you call mind; or right now your capability to experience life only through the limited dimension that we call mind. That is the only problem.”

“Look into my eyes, you will see
What you mean to me.
Search your heart, search your soul.
And when you find me there,
You’ll search no more.Don’t tell me it’s not worth trying for.
You can’t tell me it’s not worth dying for.
You know it’s true,
Everything I do, I do it for you.”

“There’s always this question in every growing consciousness, what is the purpose of life and what are our roles in it. When you focus on this question for a while the answers somehow present itself to you, you’d realise that we are searching for something which we don’t know what it really is or where to actually get it.
At the end of the search you’d realise that everything you’re searching for is already within you and you’ve been searching for yourself. So it’s safe to say the purpose of life is self realisation and unfoldment.”

“Don't you know
Girl, you'll be a woman soon.
Please, come take my hand.
Girl, you'll be a woman soon.
Soon you'll need a man.”

“You know what I want in a woman, Paul?"
"What's that?"
"A friend. A true friend; someone who knows me and loves me anyway. You know, like when I'm through putting my best foot forward, she's still there, still the same.”

“You love the thunder and you love the rain
You know your hunger like you know your name
I know you wonder how you ever came
To be a woman in love with a man in search of the flame”

“Son, you'll know you're in love when a woman's voice settles into your spine.”

“Every face, every shop, bedroom window, public-house, and dark square is a picture feverishly turned--in search of what? It is the same with books. What do we seek through millions of pages?”