Nothing is meaningful except surrendering to love. Do it.
A pen went scribbling along. When it tried to write love, it broke.
When water gets caught in habitual whirlpools, dig a way out through the bottom of the ocean.
Inside the Great Mystery that is, we don't really own anything. What is this competition we feel then, before we go, one at a time, through the same gate?
There is a life-force within your soul, seek that life.
My soul gave me good counsel, teaching me to love. Love was for me a delicate thread stretched between two adjacent pegs, but now it has been transformed into a halo, its first is its last, and its last is its first. It encompases every being, slowly expanding to embrace all that ever will be.