You must lance an ulcer to heal it. You must tear down parts of an old building to restore it, and so it is with a sensual life that has no spirit in it.

Let your Teacher be Love itself.

Every moment is made glorious by the light of love.

The cure for pain is in the pain.

There is a basket of fresh bread on your head, yet you go door to door asking for crusts.

Come on sweetheart let's adore one another before there is no more of you and me

Everything that is made beautiful and fair and lovely is made for the eye of one who sees.