Do you think I know what I'm doing? That for one breath or half-breath I belong to myself? As much as a pen knows what it's writing, or the ball can guess where it's going next.

What is the heart? It is not human and it is not imaginary. I call it you.

Try something different. Surrender.

If you put on shoes that are too tight and walk out across an empty plain, you will not feel the freedom of the place unless you take off your shoes. Your shoe-constriction has you confined. At night before sleeping you take off the tight shoes, and your soul releases into a place it knows. Dreams glide deeper.

Yesterday was glory and joy. Today, a blackened burn everywhere. On the record of my life, these two days will be put down as one

Let Silence speak to you about the secrets of the universe.

Deep in the HEART every mystery of spirit is hidden.