For that which is boundless in you abides in the mansion of the sky, whose door is the morning mist, and whose windows are the songs and the silences of night.

Tolerance is love sick with the sickness of haughtiness.

He who passes not his days in the realm of dreams is the slave of the days.

Darkness is dawn not yet born.

Love is life sharing, not for hurt, Love is alive both not ambiguous. Love is whole life, not an affair.

For love is sufficient unto love.

He who is more mindful of one, loses the love and the faith of both.