I had never heard of Gurdjieff and the statement of my friend, that she knows a Russian master, filled me with suspicion. Nevertheless I accompanied her one evening in the Salle Pleyel where he taught these techniques of movement. I always remember how strange it touched me when Gurdjieff entered the hall. It was like a purple light. Here I encountered the first old man who was as I had always wished it to be: an example of complete presence and dedication or empathy.
During the meal Gurdjieff told stories which were like Zen stories. All of us listened without saying anything. For me Gurdjieff was a man of unbelievable beauty. All the people supped, so to say, with their eyes on him. He told me I should come to every meal now; if I was not a pupil of his, I would be a good companion with whom he wanted to eat and drink. This naturally put me in complete enthusiasm. For the first time I experienced outwardly the mood of reality which Ramana Maharashi had brought to me inwardly.
One day Gurdjieff told me that his books would appear in many countries and that I was ready to publish them in German if he paid the cost. In that year and the following year I began an adventure. I translated Ouspensky's, In Search of the Miraculous, and published this and Gurdjieff's All and Everything. Both books had no echo whatsoever in the public. (Few copies were sold.)