Hormuz L'isola arcobaleno

Water, stories, the body, all the things we do, are mediums that hid and show what&#39;s hidden.

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

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?

People are crying up the rich and variegated plumage of the peacock, and he is himself blushing at the sight of his ugly feet.

That which God said to the rose, and caused it to laugh in full-blown beauty, He said to my heart, and made it a hundred times more beautiful.

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

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.

The gifts of lovers to one another are, in respect to love, nothing but forms; yet, they testify to invisible love.

When the belly is empty, the body becomes spirit; and when it is full, the spirit becomes body.

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.

Send a bouquet of your face with the morning breeze.

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