Happiness is a simple everyday miracle, like water, and we are not aware of it. — Nikos Kazantzakis Copy Share Image
“How simple and frugal a thing is happiness: a glass of wine, a roast chestnut, a wretched little brazier, the sound of the sea. . . . All that is required to feel that here and now is happiness is… — Nikos Kazantzakis Copy Share Image
“We gaze with perplexity at the highest part of the spiral of force that governs the Universe. And we call it God. We could… — Nikos Kazantzakis Copy Share
I collect my tools: sight, smell, touch, taste, hearing, intellect. Night has fallen... — Nikos Kazantzakis Copy Share
Everything in this world has a hidden meaning, I thought. Men, animals, trees, stars, they are all hieroglyphics; woe to anyone who begins to… — Nikos Kazantzakis Copy Share
I possess no weapon but love. With that I have come to do battle. Help me! — Nikos Kazantzakis Copy Share
Today, any action anywhere on earth has an immediate repercussion on all five continents. News of a victory of the Eastern armies in Morocco… — Nikos Kazantzakis Copy Share
“You have everything but one thing: madness. A man needs a little madness or else - he never dares cut the rope and be… — Nikos Kazantzakis Copy Share
“A man needs a little madness, or else... he never dares cut the rope and be free.” — Nikos Kazantzakis Copy Share
There's a devil inside me which cries, "You're not the son of the Carpenter, you're the son of King David! You are not a… — Nikos Kazantzakis Copy Share
Lions and Lambs, love and force, light and fire, good and evil: all things climb the same mountain, the mountain of God. — Nikos Kazantzakis Copy Share
I say one thing, you write another, and those who read you understand still something else! I say: cross, death, kingdom of heaven, God...and… — Nikos Kazantzakis Copy Share
“No, you're not free," he said. "The string you're tied to is perhaps no longer than other people's. That's all. You're on a long… — Nikos Kazantzakis Copy Share
The masses do not see the Sirens. They do not hear songs in the air. Blind, deaf, stooping, they pull at their oars in… — Nikos Kazantzakis Copy Share
