In the depths of your hopes and desires, lies your silent knowledge of the beyond, and like seeds dreaming beneath the snow, your heart dreams of spring. Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.

There are those who give with joy, and that joy is their reward.

Life without love is like a tree without blossoms or fruit.

My yearning is my cup, my burning thirst is my drink, and my solitude is my intoxication; I do not and shall not quench my thirst. But in this burning that is never extinguished is a joy that never wanes.

Be like the flower, turn your faces to the sun.

As the strings of a lute are apart though they quiver the same music.

If winter should say, 'Spring is in my heart,' who would believe winter?