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

I am like God and God like me. I am as large as God. He is as small as I. He cannot above me nor I beneath him be.

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

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

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.

Springtime is at hand. When will you ever bloom, if not here and now?