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

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.

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

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

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

A monk asks:Is there anything more miraculous than the wonders of nature?The master answers:Yes, your awareness of the wonders of nature.

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.