“Come, fill the Cup, and in the Fire of Spring The Winter Garment of Repentance fling: The Bird of Time has but a little way To fly-and Lo! the Bird is on the Wing.”

Better be jocund with the fruitful Grape Than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit.

Oh Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make, And ev’n with Paradise devise the snake; For all the Sin wherewith the Face of Man Is blackened – Man’s forgiveness give and take!

Be happy for this moment. This moment is your life.

I hide my distress, just like the blessed birds hide themselves when they are preparing to die. Wine! Wine, roses, music and your indifference to my sadness, my loved-one!

Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss’d Of the Two Worlds so wisely – they are thrust Like foolish Prophets forth; their Words to Scorn Are scattered, and their mouths are stopped with Dust.

A drink is shorter than a tale.

The Revelations of Devout and Learn’d Who rose before us, and as Prophets burn’d, Are all but Stories, which, awoke from Sleep They told their comrades, and to Sleep return’d.

Yes, the first morning of creation wrote what the last dawn of reckoning shall read.

I have not asked for life. But I try to accept whatever life brings without surprise. And I shall depart again without having questioned anyone about my strange stay here on earth.

And this I know; whether the one True Light Kindle to Love, or Wrath consume me quite, One flash of it within the Tavern caught Better than in the temple lost outright.

Ah Love! could you and I with him conspire To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire Would we not shatter it to bits-and then Re-mould it nearer to the Heart’s Desire?

By Fate full many a heart has been undone, And many a sprightly rose made woe-begone; Plume thee not on thy lusty youth and strength: Full many a bud is blasted ere its bloom.

Fools, your reward is neither here nor there.

For in and out, above, about, below, ‘Tis nothing but a Magic Shadow-show, Played in a Box whose Candle is the Sun, Round which we Phantom Figures come and go.

This body is a tent which for a space Does the pure soul with kingly presence grace; When he departs, comes the tent-pitcher, Death, Strikes it, and moves to a new halting-place.

The Stars are setting and the Caravan Starts for the Dawn of Nothing-Oh, make haste!

Suffering is always the effect of wrong thought in some direction.

All evil is corrective and remedial and is therefore not permanent.

Your meditation is not only about you. If you become truly meditative, without knowing why everything around you will become peaceful.

Awaken with me for we only have one life it is too short to not be aligned.

Happy is he who bears a god within, and who obeys it. The grandeur of human actions is measured by the inspiration from which they spring.

Thought is the fount of action, life, and manifestation; make the fountain pure, and all will be pure.

Only In Coexistence Is Sustained Existence Possible.

The purpose of spiritual practices is to demolish the structures of limited experience and facilitate a Universal Possibility within the Individual.