The Fault Is In The One Who

Botha Swimmer And A Drowned Man Are In The Water; The Latter Is Borne By The Water And Controlled By It, While The Swimmer Is Borne Along By His Own Power And Of His Own Volition. Every Movement Made By The Drowned Man - Indeed, Every Act And Word That Issue From Him - Comes From The Water, Not From Him... The Saints Are Like This. They Have Died Before Death.

If You Knew The Secret Of Life, You Too Would Choose No Other Companion But Love.

Water The Fruit Trees And Don’t Water The Thorns.

In The Silence Between Your Heartbeat Bides A Summons. Do You Hear It? Name It If You Must, Or Leave It Forever Nameless, But Why Pretend It Is Not There?

The Here-and-now Mountain Is A Tiny Piece Of A Piece Of Straw Blown Off Into Emptiness.