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.

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

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

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

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.

God does not care what good you did, but why you did it. He does not grade the fruit but probes the core and tests the root.