All Language Is A Longing For Home.

Everyone Has Been Made For Some Particular Work, And The Desire For That Work Has Been Put In Every Heart.

Everything Is Soul And Flowering.

Your Hand Opens And Closes And Opens And Closes. If It Were Always A Fist Or Always Stretched Open, You Would Be Paralyzed.

Doing As Others Told Me, I Was Blind. Coming When Others Called Me, I Was Lost. Then I Left Everyone, Myself As Well. Then I Found Everyone, Myself As Well.

The Minute I Heard My First Love Story, I Started Looking For You.