Come Into My Eyes, And Look At

The Whole Business Of Love Is To Drown In The Sea.

Beauty Is The Garden Scent Of Roses, Murmuring Water Flowing Gently...can Words Describe The Indescribable?

Ecstatic Love Is An Ocean, And The Milky Way Is A Flake Of Foam Floating On It.

He Whose Intellect Overcomes His Lust Is Higher Than The Angels; He Whose Lust Overcomes His Intelligence Is Less Than An Animal.

Your Hand Opens And Closes, Opens And Closes. If It Were Always A Fist Or Always Stretched Open, You Would Be Paralysed. Your Deepest Presence Is In Every Small Contracting And Expanding, The Two As Beautifully Balanced And Coordinated As Birds' Wings.