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

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

It isn't bread that feeds you; it is life and the spirit that feed you through bread.

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

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

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.

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