You may learn to imitate a birdcall, but do you experience what the nightingale feels for the rose?

And don't think the garden loses its ecstasy in winter. It's quiet, but the roots are down there riotous.

A pen went scribbling along. When it tried to write love, it broke.

I have been so naughted in Thy Love's existence that my nonexistence is a thousand times sweeter than my existence

What the sayer of praise is really praising is himself, by saying implicitly, My eyes are clear." Likewise, someone who criticizes is criticizing himself, saying implicitly, "I can't see very well with my eyes so inflamed.

Listen my love, illumination is eternal. Now is always evolving. As there are billions of stars, there are billions of steps. As there are billions of souls, there are billions of ways to grow.

As long as an angel is not annihilated, it is a devil.