A paradise hidden in the heart of the Zanjan Mountains

The moment I first heard love I gave up my soul, my heart, and my eyes.

The rose and the thorn, and sorrow and gladness are linked together.

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.

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.

Don&#39;t grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form.

May these vows and this marriage be blessed.

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

Everything that is made beautiful and fair and lovely is made for the eye of one who sees.