Never ask people. Not about your work. Don't you know what you want? How can you stand it, not to know?

If you ask me anything I don't know, I'm not going to answer.

If you don't know what to do with an answer, don't ask the question.

Don’t ask me anything more. My essence is wordless.

I don't answer questions about conjectures.

Oh, do not ask, 'What is it?'/Let us go and make our visit.

The wise needn't ask, the fool asks in vain.

Once they have you asking the wrong questions. They don't have to worry about the answers.

Ask me no questions, and I will tell you no lies.

The truth is that the forms I see have been slowly emptied out. They no longer have any content. They are shapes only. A train, a wall, a world. Or a man. A thing dangling in senseless articulation in a howling void. No meaning to its life. Its words. Why would I seek the company of such a thing? Why?

Don't tell me what I'm doing; I don't want to know.

If you don't care about the destination, you don't ask where you're going.

Never ask anyone for their opinion, forecast, or recommendation. Just ask them what they have — or don’t have — in their portfolio.

Put simply, you can’t ask your unconscious a question, and expect a direct answer — a neat, tidy little verbal message.