Whoever is loved is beautiful, but the opposite is not true, that whoever is beautiful is loved.

Come, even if you have broken your vow one thousand times, come, yet again, come, come.

Whatever posessions and objects of its desires the lower self may obtain, it hangs on to them, refusing to let them go out of greed for more, or out of fear of poverty and need.

Do not grieve over any joy that has gone forever, for it will return to you in another form, know that for sure.

Try something different. Surrender.

This is love: to fly toward a secret sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment. First to let go of life. Finally, to take a step without feet.

Patience is the key to joy.