No work or love will flourish out of guilt, fear, or hollowness of heart, just as no valid plans for the future can be made by those who have no capacity for living now.
Where do I begin and end in space? I have relations to the sun and air which are just as vital parts of my existence as my heart.
The morning glory which blooms for an hour differs not at heart from a giant pine that lives for a thousand years.
Perhaps there is no other knowing than the mere competence of the act. If at the heart of one's being, there is no self to which one ought to be true, then sincerity is simply nerve; it lies in the unabashed vigor of the pretense. But pretense is only pretense when it is assumed that the act is not true to the agent. Find the agent.