Glance at the sun. See the moon and stars. Gaze at the beauty of the green earth. Now think.

The marvels of God are not brought forth from one's self. Rather, it is more like a chord, a sound that is played. The tone does not come out of the chord itself, but rather, through the touch of the musician. I am, of course, the lyre and harp of God's kindness.

All of creation is a song of praise to God.

The word stands for the body, but the symphony stands for the spirit.

The soul is kissed by God in its innermost regions.

I, God, am in your midst. Whoever knows me can never fall. Not in the heights, nor in the depths, nor in the breadths. For I am love, which the vast expanses of evil can never still.

There is the music of Heaven in all things.