Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems.

Why don't you think of [God] as the one who is coming, who has been approaching from all eternity... the ultimate fruit of a tree whose leaves we are.

Since I've learned to be silent, everything has come so much closer to me.

In one creative thought a thousand forgotten nights of love revive, filling it with sublimity and exaltation.

It is a tremendous act of violence to begin anything. I am not able to begin. I simply skip what should be the beginning.

For bel.i.eve me, the more one is, the richer is all one experiences. And whoever wants to have deep love in his life must collect and save for it and gather honey.

I feel it now: there's a power in me to grasp and give shape to my world I know that nothing has ever been real without my beholding it. All becoming has need me.