Sadness is but a wall between two gardens.

You often say, "I would give, but only to the deserving." The trees in your orchard say not so, nor the flocks in your pasture. They give that they may live, for to withhold is to perish.

Man struggles to find life outside himself, unaware that the life he is seeking is within him.

For truth and the spirit will abide with the morrow.

And let it direct your passion with reason, that your passion may livethrough its own daily resurrection, and like the phoenix rise above its own ashes.

What difference is there between us, save a restless dream that follows my soul but fears to come near you?

Real beauty lies in the spiritual accord that is called love which can exist between a man and a woman.