At the end of my life, with just one breath left, if you come, I’ll sit up and sing.

Listen. Make a way for yourself inside yourself. Stop looking in the other way of looking.

There is an unseen sweetness in the stomach’s emptiness. We are lutes. When the sound box is filled, no music can come forth. When the brain and the belly burn from fasting, every moment a new song rises out of the fire. The mists clear, and a new vitality makes you spring up the steps before you . . .

Give your life to the one who already owns your breath and your moments.

The soul lives there in the silent breath.

I am so small I can hardly be seen. How can this great love be inside me? Look at your eyes. They are small, but they see enormous things.

When the remedy you have offered only increases the disease, then leave him who will not be cured, and tell your story to someone who seeks the truth.