The world doesn’t yield to us directly, the description of the world stands in between. - Carlos Castañeda

A warrior, or any man for that matter, cannot possibly wish he were somewhere else; a warrior because he lives by challenge, an ordinary man because he doesn't know where his death is going to find him.

Our total being consists of two perceivable segments. The first is the familiar physical body, which all of us can perceive; the second is the luminous body, which is a cocoon that only seers can perceive, a cocoon that gives us the appearance of giant luminous eggs. One of the most important goals of sorcery is to reach the luminous cocoon; a goal which is fulfilled through the sophisticated use of dreaming and through a rigorous, systematic exertion called not-doing. I've defined not-doing as an unfamiliar act which engages our total being by forcing it to become conscious of its luminous segment.

Does this path have a heart? All paths are the same: they lead nowhere. They are paths going through the bush,
or into the bush. In my own life I could say I have traversed long, long paths, but I am not anywhere. My
benefactor's question has meaning now. Does this path have a heart? If it does, the path is good; if it doesn't, it is
of no use. Both paths lead nowhere; but one has a heart, the other doesn't. One makes for a joyful journey; as
long as you follow it, you are one with it. The other will make you curse your life. One makes you strong; the
other weakens you.