Paradise is at your own center; unless you find it there, there is no way to enter.

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

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

By the will art thou lost, by the will art thou found, by the will art thou free, captive, and bound.

The Rose which here on earth is now perceived by me, has blossomed thus in god from all eternity.

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

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