We are even higher than the heavens, we are greater than angels; Why should we not transcend both? Our lodging-place is Majesty.
In real existence there is only unity.
There is some kiss we want with the whole of our lives.
We are the fingertips of blind illusion, You are the absolute Cause of causes.
Tree limbs rise and fall like the ecstatic arms of those who have submitted to the mystical life. Leaf sounds talk together like poets making fresh metaphors.
That's how you came here, like a star without a name. Move across the night sky with those anonymous lights.
God gave you life and bestowed upon you his attributes; eventually you will return to him.
My beloved grows right out of my own heart. How much more union can there be.
Words can fertilize space now and then; don't deny yourself becoming enriched.
Poems are rough notations for the music we are.
Because the Beloved wants to know, unseen things become manifest. Hiding is the hidden purpose of creation.
My lips got lost on the way to the kiss - that's how drunk I was.
There are no edges to my loving now.
There's a hidden sweetness in the stomach's emptiness. We are lutes, no more, no less. If the soundbox is stuffed full of anything, no music.... When you're full of food and drink, Satan sits where your spirit should.
The day is conscious of itself.
To praise is to praise how one surrenders to the emptiness.
The friend who knows a lot more than you do will bring difficulties, and grief, and sickness, as medicine, as happiness, as the essence of the moment when you're beaten when you hear Checkmate, and can finally say, I trust you to kill me.
You could string a hundred endless days together, My soul would find no comfort from this pain. You laugh at my tale? You may be educated But you haven’t learned to love till you’re insane
Love will find its way through all languages on its own.
We alchemists look for talent that can heat up and change. Lukewarm won't do. Halfhearted holding back, well-enough getting by? Not here.
Because I cannot sleep I make music at night.
Whoever has Heart's doors wide open, could see the Sun itself in every atom.
Doubt is a precipice on the way to God. Blessed is he who is freed from its bonds. He who fares without any doubt, adhere to his footprints if you do not know the way. Cleave to the footprints of the deer and advance with care that you may reach the musk-gland. By means of such trekking, even if you walk on fire, you will reach the luminous peak.
That hurt we embrace becomes joy. Call it to your arms where it can change.
There is none dwelling in the house but God. When a man is awakened he melts and perishes.
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