Michael Kurrier

“The simple idea occurred to him that he could somehow free himself for half a day from the imperial city, that he might, on this morning, somehow escape his retinue, that by means of some clever trick he might flee their presence, and, remaining alone, set off toward a monastery standing on a hill or mountain, a monastery in which—according to a young scholar who had turned up in his presence not too long ago—the garden he sought might be found.”
― László Krasznahorkai, A Mountain to the North, a Lake to the South, Paths to the West, a River to the East

“He looked so strange and absentminded; quite obviously he had just been reading a book, one could tell that from the expression in his eyes, from his hair, from the abstracted way in which he managed his hands.”
― Jens Peter Jacobsen, Mogens and Other Stories

“He was a manifestation of the truth that there was a place, on this earth, for human sensitivity, for sympathy and compassion, for consideration and benevolence, for tact and humility, for exaltedness and a greater vocation.”
― László Krasznahorkai, A Mountain to the North, a Lake to the South, Paths to the West, a River to the East

“Whoever saw him immediately knew: the Buddha turned his beautiful gaze away so that he would not have to look, so he would not have to see, so he would not have to be aware of what was in front of himself, in the three directions—this wretched world.”
― László Krasznahorkai, A Mountain to the North, a Lake to the South, Paths to the West, a River to the East