“Justice is the soul of the universe.”

Into this universe, and why not knowing Nor whence, like water willy-nilly flowing; And out of it, as wind along the wate, I know not whither, willy-nilly blowing.

Drink! For you know not whence you came nor why.

Men talk of heaven, – there is no heaven but here; Men talk of hell, – there is no hell but here; Men of hereafters talk and future lives, – O love, there is no other life – but here.

You know how little while we have to stay, And, once departed, may return no more.

My friend, let’s not think of tomorrow, but let’s enjoy this fleeting moment of life.

The Flower that once has blown forever dies.

A loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and thou.

Hearts are like tapers, which at beauteous eyes Kindle a flame of love that never dies; And beauty is a flame, where hearts, like moths, Offer themselves a burning sacrifice.

I hide my grief, just like the blessed birds hide themselves when they are preparing to die, my love.

I hide my grief, just like the blessed birds hide themselves when they are preparing to die, my love.

I hide my grief, just like the blessed birds hide themselves when they are preparing to die, my love.

I came like Water, and like Wind I go.

I came like Water, and like Wind I go.

I came like Water, and like Wind I go.

Give me a flagon of red wine, a book of verses, a loaf of bread, and a little idleness. If with such store I might sit by thy dear side in some lonely place, I should deem myself happier than a king in his kingdom.

Thy Return is as another Sun to Heaven; a new Rose blooming in the Garden of the Soul.

God’s love does not protect us from suffering. God’s love protects us in the midst of suffering.

I feel everything to the bottom of its depth maybe its a gift, its probably a curse.

Toleration is good for all, or it is good for none.

Change is a stranger you have yet to know.

Because I have seen a rare kind of peace in the eyes of loners. Because I have heard whispers of battles of the accompanied.

God is not only true, but Truth itself.

Falling for superficial costs depth its entire existence.

Is it a loss that is still present? Or a presence that seems to be lost?