A Pure Heart, Open To

We May Know Who We Are Or We May Not. We May Be Muslims, Jews Or Christians But Until Our Hearts Become The Mould For Every Heart We Will See Only Our Differences.

Light The Incense! You Have To Burn To Be Fragrant.

If The Foot Of The Trees Were Not Tied To Earth, They Would Be Pursuing Me; For I Have Blossomed So Much, I Am The Envy Of The Gardens.

Oh Soul! You Worry Too Much. Your Arms Are Heavy With Treasures Of All Kinds.

On The Path Of Love We Are Neither Masters Nor The Owners Of Our Lives. We Are Only A Brush In The Hand Of The Master Painter.