I Merged So Completely With Love, And

Your Hand Opens And Closes And Opens And Closes. If It Were Always A Fist Or Always Stretched Open, You Would Be Paralyzed.

The Work Of Magic Is This, That It Breathes And At Every Breath Transforms Realities.

You Are Quaffing Drink From A Hundred Fountains: Whenever Any Of These Hundred Yields Less, Your Pleasure Is Diminished. But When The Sublime Fountain Gushes From Within You, No Longer Need You Steal From The Other Fountains.

Whether One Moves Slowly Or With Speed, The One Who Is A Seeker Will Be A Finder.

I Will Find New Meaning In Every Joy And Sorrow.