The soul: a wide listening sky with thousands of candles.

Neither this body am I, nor soul, Nor these fleeting images passing by, Nor concepts and thoughts, mental images, Nor yet sentiments and the psyche's labyrinth. Who then am I? A consciousness without origin, Not born in time, nor begotten here below. I am that which was, is and ever shall be, A jewel in the crown of the Divine Self, A star in the firmament of the luminous One.

Love cannot be learned or taught. Love comes as Grace.

What a Joy, to travel the way of the heart

I have blossomed so much, I am the envy of the gardens.

When you reach the bottom of the well of your own nature, then you will know that the vileness was from yourself.

Conventional opinion is the ruin of our souls.