We are born of love; Love is our mother.
Everyone has been made for some particular work, and the desire for that work has been put in every heart.
Grief can be the garden of compassion. If you keep your heart open through everything, your pain can become your greatest ally in your life’s search for love and wisdom.
Why should I be unhappy? Every parcel of my being is in full bloom.
I am neither of the East nor of the West, no boundaries exist within my breast.
Water, stories, the body, all the things we do, are mediums that hid and show what’s hidden.
Plant the love of the holy ones within your spirit; don’t give your heart to anything, but the love of those whose hearts are glad.
When someone beats a rug, the blows are not against the rug, but against the dust in it.
Something opens our wings. Something makes boredom and hurt disappear. Someone fills the cup in front of us: We taste only sacredness.
The way the Beloved can fit in my heart, two thousand lives could fit in this body of mine. One kernel could contain a thousand bushels, and a hundred worlds pass through the eye of the needle.