At night, I open the window and ask the moon to come and press its face against mine. Breathe into me. Close the language-door and open the love-window. The moon won't use the door, only the window.

Come to the Root of the Root of your Self

A lover in life will be a lover in death, a lover in the tomb, a lover in paradise, a lover on the day of resurrection.

You must lance an ulcer to heal it. You must tear down parts of an old building to restore it, and so it is with a sensual life that has no spirit in it.

A mountain keeps an echo deep inside itself. That's how I hold your voice.

We are the mirror - As well as the face in it.

Every prophet and every saint has a way, But all lead to God. All ways are really one.