There are no edges to my loving now.

There is a secret medicine given only to those who hurt so hard they can't hope. The hopers would feel slighted if they knew.

There is one way of breathing that is shameful and constricted. Then, there's another way: a breath of love that takes you all the way to infinity.

Love is language that cannot be said, or heard.

We are pain and what cures pain, both. We are the sweet cold water and the jar that pours. I want to hold you close like a lute, so that we can cry out with loving. Would you rather throw stones at a mirror? I am your mirror and here are the stones.

Very high, very grand, and very wise is the ocean of God, the Water of Life. You went after the form and were lead astray. How can you see it? You abandoned the truth. Sometimes it is named "tree," sometimes "sun," sometimes "ocean," sometimes "cloud," one thing from which scores of discoveries arise, its slightest definition an everlasting life.

Be occupied, then, with what you really value and let the thief take something else.