Your eyelashes will write on my heart the poem that could never come from the pen of a poet.

Body of earth, don't talk of earth Tell the story of pure mirrors The Creator has given you this splendor-- Why talk of anything else?

Inside of us, there's a continual autumn. Our leaves fall and are blown out over the water.

Thinking gives off smoke to prove the existence of fire. A mystic sits inside the burning. There are wonderful shapes in rising smoke that imagination loves to watch. But it's a mistake to leave the fire for that filmy sight. Stay here at the flame's core.

Every object, every being...is a jar full of delight.

Body is not veiled from soul, neither soul from body, Yet no man hath ever seen a soul.

When you notice a fault in your neighbour, search for the same in yourself.