If The Foot Of The Trees Were

The Here-and-now Mountain Is A Tiny Piece Of A Piece Of Straw Blown Off Into Emptiness.

Silence Is The Language Of God, All Else Is Poor Translation.

We Are Tasting The Taste Of Eternity This Minute.

I Am A Bird Of God's Garden And I Do Not Belong To This Dusty World For A Day Or Two They Have Put Me Here In This Cage Of My Own Body I Did Not Come Here Of My Own I Will Not Return Of My Own To My Own Country.

True Beauty Is A Ray That Springs From The Sacred Depths Of The Soul, And Illuminates The Body, Just As Life Springs From The Kernel Of A Stone And Gives Colour And Scent To A Flower.