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

God is a pure no-thing, concealed in now and here; the less you reach for him, the more he will appear.

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.

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

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

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