You are an ocean in a drop of dew, all the universes in a thin sack of blood. What are these pleasures then, these joys, these worlds that you keep reaching for, hoping they will make you more alive?

Pale sunlight, pale the wall. Love moves away. The light changes I need more grace than I thought.

My heart rushes into the garden, joyfully tasting all the delights. But reason frowns, disapproving of the heart's bad manners.

When you eventually see through the veils to how things really are, you will keep saying again and again, this is certainly not like we thought it was.

Last night my teacher taught me the lesson of Poverty: Having nothing and wanting nothing.

Treasures and armies do not make a king. A true king is a king within himself.

These pains you feel are messengers. Listen to them.