I do not feel like writing verses; but as I light my perfume burner with myrrh and jasmine incense, they suddenly burgeon from my heart, like flowers in a garden.
I rarely let the word NO escape from my mouth, because it is so plain to my soul that God has shouted, Yes! Yes! Yes! To every luminous movement in existence.
God disguised as myriad things, and playing a game of tag has kissed you and said, “You’re it. I mean you’re really it. Now it does not matter what you believe or feel. For something wonderful, something major-league wonderful, is someday going to happen.”
What do sad people have in common? It seems they have all built a shrine to the past and often go there and do a strange wail and worship. What is the beginning of Happiness? It is to stop being so religious like that.
