It Is Certain That An Atom Of

All Religions, All This Singing, One Song. The Differences Are Just Illusion And Vanity. The Sun’s Light Looks A Little Different On This Wall Than It Does On That Wall, And A Lot Different On This Other One, But It’s Still One Light.

O, Happy The Soul That Saw Its Own Faults.

Fling Me Across The Fabric Of Time And The Seas Of Space. Make Me Nothing And From Nothing-everything.

How Can You Ever Hope To Know The Beloved Without Becoming In Every Cell The Lover?

There's Hidden Sweetness In The Stomach's Emptiness.