Christ could be born a thousand times in Bethlehem - but all in vain until He is born in me.

The one awakened liberated sees all things as one unseparated.

The rose is without 'why'; it blooms simply because it blooms. It pays no attention to itself, nor does it ask whether anyone sees it.

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

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

Don't think that some tomorrow you'll see God's Light. You see it now or err in darkest night.

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