Half-heartedness doesn't reach into majesty. You set out to find God, but then you keep stopping for long periods at meanspirited roadhouses.
You may learn to imitate a birdcall, but do you experience what the nightingale feels for the rose?
I am part of the load not rightly balanced . . .
Love cannot be described. It must be tasted.
There is little one can say about love. It has to be lived, and it's always in motion.
Oh sky, without me, do not change, Oh moon, without me, do not shine; Oh earth, without me, do not grow, Oh time, without me, do not go. ...Oh, you cannot go, without me.