Open your hands if you want to be held.
Intelligence is the shadow of objective truth. How can the shadow vie with sunshine?
The garden of the world has no limits except in your mind. Its presence is more beautiful than the stars with more clarity than the polished mirror of your heart.
Love, the supreme musician, is always playing in our souls
Poems are rough notations for the music we are.
Pure souls, didn’t I tell you not to be seduced by this colorful world for I am the Ultimate Painter.