Nothing can throw thee into the infernal abyss so much as this detested word - heed well! - this mine and thine.

Springtime is at hand. When will you ever bloom, if not here and now?

If Christ were born in Bethlehem a thousand times and not in thee thyself; then art thou lost eternally.

Love is difficult, because loving is not enough: We must, like God, ourselves be Love.

The name of Jesus is as ointment poured forth; It nourishes, and illumines, and stills the anguish of the soul.

The Rose which here on earth is now perceived by me, has blossomed thus in god from all eternity.

It isn't bread that feeds you; it is life and the spirit that feed you through bread.