You have been a prisoner of a little pond I am the ocean and its turbulent flood Come merge with me leave this world of ignorance

Love is a madman, working his wild schemes, tearing off his clothes, running through the mountains...

What does this patch-sewing mean you ask? Eating and drinking. The heavy cloak of the body is always getting torn. You patch it with food and other ego-satisfactions.

We are born of love. Love is our mother.

There is something to be said for anyone who sits alone with dignity and silently begs for God.

Speak any language, Turkish, Greek, Persian, Arabic, but always speak with love

Very little grows on jagged rock. Be ground. Be crumbled, so wildflowers will come up where you are.