Soul, a moving river. Body, the riverbed.

There is one way of breathing that is shameful and constricted. Then, there's another way: a breath of love that takes you all the way to infinity.

One drop of that ocean is Hope, and the rest is fear.

You've come to know the fortunate and the inauspicious stars, but you don't know whether you yourself are fortunate or lucky.

Until the juice ferments a while in the cask, it isn't wine. If you wish your heart to be bright, you must do a little work.

My friend, you thought you lost Him; that all your life you've been separated from Him. Filled with wonder, you've always looked outside for Him, and haven't searched within your own house.

What in your life is calling you, When all the noise is silenced, The meetings adjourned... The lists laid aside, And the Wild Iris blooms By itself In the dark forest... What still pulls on your soul?