For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith, But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.

Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.

Between the desire And the spasm, Between the potency And the existence, Between the essence And the descent, Falls the Shadow.

The sense of wellbeing! Its often with us When we are young, but then it's not noticed; And by the time one has grown to consciousness It comes less often.

No place of grace for those who avoid the Face. No time to rejoice for those who walk among noise and deny the Voice.

I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope, For hope would be hope for the wrong thing.

There are three conditions which often look alike Yet differ completely, flourish in the same hedgerow: Attachment to self and to things and to persons, detachment From self and from things and from persons; and, growing between them, indifference, ... .