It is only through mystery and madness that the soul is revealed.

Usually, the main problem with life conundrums is that we don't bring to them enough imagination

From plants that wake when others sleep, from timid jasmine buds that keep their odour to themselves all day, but when the sunlight dies away let the delicious secret out to every breeze that roams about.

When we relate to our bodies as having soul, we attend to their beauty, their poetry and their expressiveness. Our very habit of treating the body as a machine, whose muscles are like pulleys and its organs engines, forces its poetry underground, so that we experience the body as an instrument and see its poetics only in illness.

The problem in narcissism is not the high ideals and ambitions, it's the difficulty one encounters when trying to give them body.

Humility, that low, sweet root, from which all heavenly virtues shoot.

I thought that the light-house looked lovely as hope, That star on life's tremulous ocean.