We keep so busy talking we are so keen to act that we forget that in the heart lies all we need untapped, intact.

The one awakened liberated sees all things as one unseparated.

The rose does not have a why; it blossums without reason, forgetful of self and oblivious to our vision.

I am like God and God like me. I am as large as God. He is as small as I. He cannot above me nor I beneath him be.

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

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

A rose is but a rose, it blooms because it blooms; it thinks not of itself, nor asks if it is seen.