Love is the soul's light, the taste of morning, no me, no we, no claim of being.
Love is the house of God and you are living in that house.
The radiant one in me has never said a word.
Let yourself become living poetry.
What a piece of bread looks like depends on whether you are hungry or not.
Flattery's fire is hidden. Its sweet taste is apparent, but the smoke is bound to come out at last.