God created music as a common language for all men. It inspires the poets, the composers and the architects. It lures us to search our souls for the meaning of the mysteries described in ancient books.
The song of the voice is sweet, but the song of the heart is the pure voice of heaven.
I love you when you bow in your mosque, kneel in your temple, pray in your church. For you and I are sons of one religion, and it is the spirit.
I AM IGNORANT of absolute truth. But I am humble before my ignorance and therein lies my honor and my reward.
In the depths of your hopes and desires, lies your silent knowledge of the beyond, and like seeds dreaming beneath the snow, your heart dreams of spring. Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.
Perhaps time’s definition of coal is the diamond.
Truth is a deep kindness that teaches us to be content in our everyday life and share with the people the same happiness.
How can I lose faith in the justice of life, when the dreams of those who sleep upon feathers are not more beautiful than the dreams of those who sleep upon the earth?
It is wrong to think that love comes from long companionship and persevering courtship. Love is the offspring of spiritual affinity and unless that affinity is created in a moment, it will not be created for years or even generations.
Tenderness and kindness are not signs of weakness and despair, but manifestations of strength and resolution.
Rebellion without truth is like spring in a bleak, arid desert.
If your knowledge teaches you not to rise above human weakness and misery and lead your fellow man on the right path, you are indeed a man of little worth and will remain such till Judgment Day.
I have learned silence from the talkative, toleration from the intolerant, and kindness from the unkind; yet, strange, I am ungrateful to those teachers.
Nature reaches out to us with welcoming arms, and bids us enjoy her beauty; but we dread her silence and rush into the crowded cities, there to huddle like sheep fleeing from a ferocious wolf.
Poetry is a deal of joy and pain and wonder, with a dash of the dictionary.
To be able to look back upon ones life in satisfaction, is to live twice.
The giving and receiving of pleasure is a need and an ecstasy.
Rest in reason. Move in Passion.
There must be something strangely sacred about salt. It is in our tears and in the sea.
Much of your pain is self-chosen.