He who knows Love becomes Love, and he knows All beings are himself, twin-born of Love.
I, Woman, am that wonder-breathing rose That blossoms in the garden of the King.
There is no death where the inner light shines, irradiating the fields of the within -- the beyond -- the unattainable attainment. You know where to find me.
Only in the stillness of detachment can the soul yield up her secrets.
The art of detection is finding a common denominator for the fractions of a case.
Watch for the high tides of yourself and flow up with them; when the inevitable low tides come, either rest or meditate. You cannot escape rhythm. You transcend it by working with it.