Tender words we spoke to one another are sealed in the secret vaults of heaven. One day like rain, they will fall to earth and grow green all over the world.
Every moment I shape my destiny with a chisel - I am the carpenter of my own soul.
He has afflicted you from every direction in order to pull you back to the directionless.
The fluteplayer puts breath into a flute, and who makes the music? Not the flute. The Fluteplayer!
And if you are a rose, I am rose-shadow.
My friend, the sufi is the friend of the present moment. To say tomorrow is not our way.