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When love beckons to you, follow him, though his ways are hard and steep. And When his wings enfold you yield to him, though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you. And When he speaks to you believe in him, though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden. For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning. Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun, So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth… All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life’s heart.
Your joy is your sorrow unmasked. And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears. And how else can it be? The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
What is needed, rather than running away or controlling or suppressing or any other resistance, is understanding fear; that means, watch it, learn about it, come directly into contact with it. We are to learn about fear, not how to escape from it.
The inner life is the root of the outer one. What is created there, is eventually expressed here.
If there is so much friction, violence, and tension in the world, it is only because so many individual persons themselves are inwardly experiencing these things… If there is so little real peace in the world, it is only because there is so little real peace in the individuals who live in the world.
Every time that a fragment of inexpressible truth passes into words that, although they are not able to contain the truth that inspired them, have by their order a perfect correspondence with truth that furnishes support to every spirit that wants to find it.
We do not enter into the truth without having passed through our own nothingness; without having sojourned for a long time in a state of extreme and total humiliation.
We are second-hand people. We have lived on what we have been told, either guided by our inclinations, our tendencies, or compelled to accept by circumstances and environment. We are the result of all kinds of influences, and there is nothing new in us, nothing that we have discovered for ourselves: nothing original, pristine, clear.
Dream delivers us to dream, and there is no end to illusion. Life is a train of moods like a string of beads, and, as we pass through them, they prove to be many-colored lenses which paint the world their own hue, and each shows only what lies in its focus.
The wine of divine Grace is limitless.
All limits come only from the limitation of the cup.
Moonlight floods the whole sky from horizon to horizon,
How much it can fill your room depends on its windows.
Grant a great dignity, my friend, to the cup of your life;
Love has designed it to hold His eternal wine.
However mean your life is, meet it and live it; do not shun it and call it hard names.
The fault–finder will find faults even in paradise.
At the end of things, the blessed will say, “We have never lived anywhere except in Heaven.” And the lost will say, “We were always in Hell.” And both will speak truly.
It’s your road and yours alone. Others may walk it with you, but no one can walk it for you.
Freedom from the desire for an answer is essential to the understanding of a problem.
You’ve been walking the ocean’s edge,
holding up your robes to keep them dry.
You must dive naked under, and deeper under,
a thousand times deeper!
As the heart, so is the life. The within is ceaselessly becoming the without. Nothing remains unrevealed. That which is hidden is but for a time; it ripens and comes forth at last. Seed, tree, blossom, and fruit is the fourfold order of the universe. From the state of a man’s heart proceed the conditions of his life; his thoughts blossom into deeds, and his deeds bear the fruitage of character and destiny.
The Formless is in the midst of all forms.
When a man begins to know himself he is no longer a machine. He may, indeed, even become a man.
If I am not for myself, who will be for me? If I am only for myself, what am I? And if not now, when?
