MIMIC He who repeats what he does not understand is no better than an ass that is loaded with books. WM-ST-63.
MADNESS Madness is the first step towards unselfishness. Be mad and tell us what is behind the veil of “sanity.” The purpose of life is to bring us closer to those secrets, and madness is the only means. SP-ST-62.
Darkness may hide the trees and the flowers from the eyes but it cannot hide love from the soul. S.
The deeper sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.
FLOWERS The flowers of the field are the children of sun’s affection and nature’s love; and the children of men are the flowers of love and compassion. BW-ST-122.
DEVIL Remember, one just man causes the Devil greater affliction than a million blind believers. WM-ST-62.
The teacher who walks in the shadow of the temple, among his followers, gives not of his wisdom but rather of his faith and his lovingness. If he is indeed wise he does not bid you enter the house of his wisdom, but rather leads you to the threshold of your own mind.
Art is one step from the visibly known toward the unknown. MS-71.
Jesus loved me and I knew not why. And I loved him because He quickened my spirit to heights beyond my stature, and to depths beyond my sounding. Love is a sacred mystery. To those who love, it remains forever wordless; But to those who do not love, it may be but a heartless jest.
In some countries, the parent’s wealth is a source of misery for the children. The.
To be overmindful of your debt is to doubt his generosity who has the free-hearted earth for mother, and God for father...
Those to whom love has not given wings cannot fly behind the cloud of appearances to see the magic world in which Selma’s spirit and mine existed together in that sorrowfully happy hour. Those whom Love has not chosen as followers do not hear when Love calls. This story is not for them. Even if they should comprehend these pages, they would not be able to grasp the shadowy meanings which are not clothed in words and do not reside on paper.
The musician may sing to you of the rhythm which is in all space, but he cannot give you the ear which arrests the rhythm nor the voice that echoes it.
And you, vast sea, sleeping mother, Who alone are peace and freedom to the river and the stream, Only another winding will this stream make, only another murmur in this glade, And then I shall come to you, a boundless drop to a boundless ocean.
But if in your fear you would seek only love’s peace and pleasure, then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor.
Ready am I to go, and my eagerness with sails full set awaits the wind. Only another breath will I breathe in this still air, only another loving look cast backward, And then I shall stand among you, a seafarer among seafarers.
When you work you are a flute through whose heart the whispering of the hours turn to music.
You may tie my hands with chains and my feet with shackles, and put me in the dark prison, but who shall not enslave my thinking, for it is free, like the breeze in the spacious sky.
Love is forever shy of beauty, yet beauty shall forever be pursued by love.