Pilgrimage to the place of the wise is to find escape from the flame of separateness.

There is my body, in it an ocean formed of his glory, all the creation, all the universes, all the galaxies, are lost in it.

Do not sit long with a sad friend. When you go to a garden do you look at the weeds? Spend more time with the roses and jasmines.

What is the mirror of Being? Non-being. Bring non-being as your gift, if you are not a fool.

The morning wind spreads its fresh smell. We must get up and take that in, that wind that lets us live. Breathe before it's gone.

Birdsong brings relief to my longing. I am just as ecstatic as they are, but with nothing to say.

Silence is the language of God, all else is poor translation.