Land of the rising sun

Water, stories, the body, all the things we do, are mediums that hid and show what&#39;s hidden.

People are crying up the rich and variegated plumage of the peacock, and he is himself blushing at the sight of his ugly feet.

The garden of love is green without limit and yields many fruits other than sorrow or joy. Love is beyond either condition: without spring, without autumn, it is always fresh.

the truth was a mirror in the hands of God. It fell, and broke into pieces. Everybody took a piece of it, and they looked at it and thought they had the truth.

Everyone has been made for some particular work, and the desire for that work has been put in every heart.

Send a bouquet of your face with the morning breeze.

I have no companion but Love, no beginning, no end, no dawn. The Soul calls from within me: &#39;You, ignorant of the way of Love, set Me free.&#39;

The rose and the thorn, and sorrow and gladness are linked together.

If you find the mirror of the heart dull, the rust has not been cleared from its face.