When someone beats a rug,the blows are not against the rug, but against the dust in it.

Like a sculptor, if necessary,carve a friend out of stone.Realize that your inner sight is blindand try to see a treasure in everyone.

A craftsman pulled a reed from the reedbed,cut holes in it, and called it a human being.Since then, it's been wailing a tender agonyof parting, never mentioning the skillthat gave it life as a flute

The world's flattery and hypocrisy is a sweet morsel:eat less of it, for it is full of fire.Its fire is hidden while its taste is manifest,but its smoke becomes visible in the end.

Love isn't the work of the tender and the gentle;Love is the work of wrestlers.The one who becomes a servant of loversis really a fortunate sovereign.Don't ask anyone about Love; ask Love about Love.Love is a cloud that scatters pearls.

Everything you possess of skill, and wealth, and handicraft,wasn't it first merely a thought and a quest?