The men of God are like fishes in the ocean; they pop up into view on the surface here and there and everywhere, as they please.

Loaves of bread remind us of sunlight, but when we are inside that orb,we lose interest in building ovens,in millwork and the preparation of fields before the planting.

There is no Love greater than Love with no object. For then you, yourself, have become love, itself.

Who says the eternal being does not exist? Who says the sun has gone out? Someone who climbs up on the roof and closes his eyes tight, and says, I don't see anything.

You are a fountain of the sun's light. I am a willow shadow on the ground. You make my raggedness silky.

Try another way of looking. Try you looking and the whole universe seeing.

Every moment a taste of that beauty in our mouths, another stashed in a pocket. Impossible to say what: no cypress so handsome, no sunlight, a lonely hiddenness. Other pleasure gathers a crowd, starts a fight, lots of noise there. But soul beauty stays quiet..his amazing whereabouts unknown inside my heart.