In Winter The Bare Boughs That Seem

Don't Insist On Going Where You Think You Want To Go. Ask The Way To The Spring.

When You Have Indulged A Lust, Your Wing Drops Off; You Become Lame, Abandoned By A Fantasy. …people Fancy They Are Enjoying Themselves, But They Are Really Tearing Out Their Wings For The Sake Of An Illusion.

When You Are With Everyone But Me, You're With No One. When You Are With No One But Me, You're With Everyone. Instead Of Being So Bound Up With Everyone, Be Everyone. When You Become That Many, You're Nothing. Empty.

For Only When Faithfulness Turns To Betrayal And Betrayal Into Trust Can Any Human Being Become Part Of The Truth.

You Have Mourned Over Others; Now Sit Down For A While And Weep Over Your Own Self.