There is some kiss we want with the whole of our lives.
All people on the planet are children, except for a very few. No one is grown up except those free of desire.
Judge the moth by the beauty of the candle
Open your hands if you want to be held.
Every fragile beauty, every perfect forgotten sentence, you grieve their going away, but that is not how it is. Where they come from never goes dry. It is an always flowing spring.
How can I know anything about the past or the future, when the light of the Beloved shines only Now.