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

That moon which the sky never saw even in dreams has risen again

Friends are enemies sometimes, and enemies friends.

Today, like every other day, we wake up empty and frightened. Don't open the door to the study and begin reading. Take down the dulcimer. Let the beauty we love be what we do. There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.

Something opens our wings. Something makes boredom and hurt disappear. Someone fills the cup in front of us: We taste only sacredness.

In things spiritual, there is no partition, no number, no individuals. How sweet is the oneness-unearth the treasure of Unity.

If all the harps in the world were burned down, still inside the heart there will be hidden music playing.