Tree limbs rise and fall like the ecstatic arms of those who have submitted to the mystical life. Leaf sounds talk together like poets making fresh metaphors.

In things spiritual, there is no partition, no number, no individuals. How sweet is the oneness-unearth the treasure of Unity.

Pure souls, didn’t I tell you not to be seduced by this colorful world for I am the Ultimate Painter.

Why should I be weary when every cell of my body is bursting with life?

I made an oath to myself: as long as I live as long as my soul remains in this body I won't deviate from the right way but later I looked to my left and then to my right and I saw our beloved everywhere how could I make a wrong turn?

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

Tis easy to break an idol, very easy: to regard the self as easy to subdue is folly, folly.