‎Dancing is not just getting up painlessly, like a leaf blown on the wind; dancing is when you tear your heart out and rise out of your body to hang suspended between the worlds.

I turn all thorn then, but you come back again and make my thorniness fragrant and pink and petaled.

If all the harps in the world were burned down, still inside the heart there will be hidden music playing.

The angel is free because of his knowledge, the beast because of his ignorance. Between the two remains the son of man to struggle.

Love itself describes its own perfection. Be speechless and listen.

Awake asleep ought to be with us - So he may see dreams in wakefulness.

Everything about yesterday has gone with yesterday. Today, it is needed to say new things.