Everything you possess of skill, and wealth, and handicraft, wasn't it first merely a thought and a quest?

Whatever purifies you is the correct road.

This is how it always is when I finish a poem. A great silence overcomes me and I wonder why I ever thought to use language.

Be occupied, then, with what you really value and let the thief take something else.

This is enough was always true. We just haven't seen it.

And watch two men washing clothes, one makes dry clothes wet. The other makes wet clothes dry. they seem to be thwarting each other, but their work is a perfect harmony. Every holy person seems to have a different doctrine and practice, but there's really only one work.

Love is the sea where intellect drowns.