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

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

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

We keep so busy talking we are so keen to act that we forget that in the heart lies all we need untapped, intact.

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

If in your heart you make a manger for his birth then God will once again become a child on earth.

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