One regret dear world, that I am determined not to have when I am lying on my deathbed is that I did not kiss you enough.

Your heart and my heart are very, very old friends.

An awake heart is like a sky that pours light.

How did the rose ever open its heart and give to this world all of its beauty? It felt the encouragement of Light against its being; otherwise we all remain too frightened.

On the holy boughs of the Celestial Tree High up in the heavenly fields, Beyond terrestrial desire My soul-bird a warm nest has built.

Be kind to your sleeping heart. Take it out into the vast fields of light...And let it breathe.

The earth has disappeared beneath my feet, It fled from all my ecstasy. Now like a singing air creature I feel the rose keep opening.