Enough of words. Come to me without a sound.
There is no worse sickness for the soul, o you who are proud, than this pretense of perfection.
Listen, O drop, give yourself up without regret, and in exchange gain the Ocean.
The soul: a wide listening sky with thousands of candles.
When you see anyone complaining of such and such a person's ill-nature and bad temper, know that the complainant is bad-tempered, forasmuch as he speaks ill of that bad-tempered person, because he alone is good-tempered who is quietly forbearing towards the bad-tempered and ill-natured.
Reason is powerless in the expression of Love. Love alone is capable of revealing the truth of Love and being a Lover. The way of our prophets is the way of Truth. If you want to live, die in Love; die in Love if you want to remain alive.