God picks up the reed-flute world and blows. Each note is a need coming through one of us, a passion, a longing pain. Remember the lips where the wind-breath originated, and let your note be clear. Don't try to end it. Be your note.

We owe thankfulness to God, not sour faces.

Your mind, this globe of awareness, is a starry universe. When you push off with your foot, a thousand new roads become clear.

God has allowed some magical reversal to occur, so that you see the scorpion pit as an object of desire, and all the beautiful expanse around it as dangerous and swarming with snakes.

A servant wants to be rewarded for what he does. A lover wants only to be in love's presence, that ocean whose depth will never be known.

Stay in the spiritual fire. Let it cook you.

Passion is present when a man can distinguish between the wine and the container. Two men see a loaf of bread. One hasn't eaten anything for ten days. The other has eaten five times a day, every day. He sees the shape of the loaf. The other man with his urgent need sees inside into the taste, and into the nourishment the bread could give. Be that hungry, to see within all beings the Friend.