How will you know the difficulties of being human, if you are always flying off to blue perfection? Where will you plant your grief seeds? Workers need ground to scrape and hoe, not the sky of unspecified desire.

There is no Love greater than Love with no object. For then you, yourself, have become love, itself.

Pull the thorn of existence out of the heart! Fast! For when you do, you will see thousands of rose gardens in yourself.

Your heart is the size of an ocean. Go find yourself in its hidden depths.

This world is in deep trouble, from top to bottom. But it can be swiftly healed by the balm of love.

Keep your intelligence white hot and your grief glistening“ so your life will stay fresh.

Let the beauty we love do what we do.