Hormuz l'île Rainbow

If you find the mirror of the heart dull, the rust has not been cleared from its face.

What shall I say, O Muslims, I know not myself, I am neither a Christian, nor a Jew, nor a Zoroastrian, nor a Muslim.

You left and I cried tears of blood. My sorrow grows. Its not just that You left. But when You left my eyes went with You. Now, how will I cry?

This is love: to fly toward a secret sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment. First to let go of life. Finally, to take a step without feet.

He who is a slave to his stomach seldom worships God.

Don&#39;t be surprised at Fortune&#39;s turns and twists: That wheel has spun a thousand yarns before.

Grief can be the garden of compassion. If you keep your heart open through everything, your pain can become your greatest ally in your life&#39;s search for love and wisdom.

Woman is a ray of God. She is not that earthly beloved: she is creative, not created.

I have learned so much from God that I can no longer call myself a Christian, a Hindu, a Muslim, a Buddhist, a Jew.

The garden of love is green without limit and yields many fruits other than sorrow or joy. Love is beyond either condition: without spring, without autumn, it is always fresh.

I have no companion but Love, no beginning, no end, no dawn. The Soul calls from within me: &#39;You, ignorant of the way of Love, set Me free.&#39;

You&#39;ve come to know the fortunate and the inauspicious stars, but you don&#39;t know whether you yourself are fortunate or lucky.