Land of the rising sun

Beauty surrounds us, but usually we need to be walking in a garden to know it.

When someone beats a rug, the blows are not against the rug, but against the dust in it.

Everyone has been made for some particular work, and the desire for that work has been put in every heart.

The way the Beloved can fit in my heart, two thousand lives could fit in this body of mine. One kernel could contain a thousand bushels, and a hundred worlds pass through the eye of the needle.

Whenever you argue with another wiser than yourself in order that others may admire your wisdom, they will discover your ignorance.

Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.

A little and a little, collected together, becomes a great deal; the heap in the barn consists of single grains, and drop and drop make the inundation.

Something opens our wings. Something makes boredom and hurt disappear. Someone fills the cup in front of us: We taste only sacredness.

I am neither of the East nor of the West, no boundaries exist within my breast.