One Of The Marvels Of The World:

Everyone Sleeps, Except Lovers, Who Stay Awake, Telling Stories To God

And Watch Two Men Washing Clothes, One Makes Dry Clothes Wet. The Other Makes Wet Clothes Dry. They Seem To Be Thwarting Each Other, But Their Work Is A Perfect Harmony. Every Holy Person Seems To Have A Different Doctrine And Practice, But There's Really Only One Work.

Learn To Recognize The False Dawn From The True; Distinguish The Color Of The Wine From The Color Of The Cup. Then It May Be That Patience And Time May Produce, Out Of The Spectrum-viewing Sight, True Vision, And You Will Behold Colors Other Than These Mortal Hues, You Will See Pearls Instead Of Stones. Pearls, Did I Say? Nay More, You Will Become A Sea, You Will Become A Sun Traveling The Sky.

The Lover Is Ever Drunk With Love. He Is Mad. She Is Free. He Sings With Delight. She Dances In Ecstasy. Caught By Our Own Thoughts, We Worry About Everything. But Once We Get Drunk On That Love Whatever Will Be, Will Be.

A Lover's Life Lies In Death. You Shall Not Find A Heart Without Losing The Heart.