A servant wants to be rewarded for what he does. A lover wants only to be in love's presence, that ocean whose depth will never be known.

There is a way between voice and presence, where information flows. In disciplined silence it opens; with wandering talk it closes.

How will you know the difficulties of being human, if you are always flying off to blue perfection? Where will you plant your grief seeds? Workers need ground to scrape and hoe, not the sky of unspecified desire.

To praise the sun is to praise your own eyes.

Listen. Make a way for yourself inside yourself. Stop looking in the other way of looking.

You dance inside my chest, where no one sees you.

The glance of Love is crystal clear.