You fill yourself with the sharp pain of love, rather than its fulfillment.
From myself I am copper, through you, friend, I am gold. From myself I’m a stone, but through you, I am a gem!
Every fragile beauty, every perfect forgotten sentence, you grieve their going away, but that is not how it is. Where they come from never goes dry. It is an always flowing spring.
He has afflicted you from every direction in order to pull you back to the directionless.
Love's creed is separate from all religions.
Why should I be weary when every cell of my body is bursting with life?