Come, for the House of Hope is built on sand: bring wine, for the fabric of life is as weak as the wind.

Everyone, whether he is self-denying or self-indulgent, is seeking after the Beloved. Every place may be the shrine of love, whether it be mosque or synagogue.

Now that all your worry has proved such an unlucrative business. Why not find a better job.

I do not feel like writing verses; but as I light my perfume burner with myrrh and jasmine incense, they suddenly burgeon from my heart, like flowers in a garden.

The heart is a thousand stringed instrument that can only be tuned with love.

How Do I Listen to others? As if everyone were my Master Speaking to me His Cherished Last Words.

Time is a factory where everyone slaves away earning enough love to break their own chains.