The mother is everything - she is our consolation in sorrow, our hope in misery, and our strength in weakness. She is the source of love, mercy, sympathy, and forgiveness. He who loses his mother loses a pure soul who blesses and guards him constantly

The thirst of soul is sweeter than the wine of material things, and the fear of spirit is dearer than the security of the body.

The soul unfolds itself, like a lotus of countless petals.

I have passed the mountain peak and my soul is soaring in the firmament of Complete and unbounded freedom; I am in comfort, I am in peace.

For the first time the sun kissed my own naked face and my soul was inflamed with love for the sun, and I wanted my masks no more. And as if in a trance I cried, "Blessed, blessed are the thieves who stole my masks." Thus I became a madman.

He who loses his mother loses a pure soul who blesses and guards him constantly.

Those to whom worshiping is a window, to open but also to shut, have not yet visited the house of their souls whose windows are open from dawn to dawn.

A traveller I am, and a navigator, and everyday I discover a new region within my soul.

if you cannot but weep when your soul summons you to prayer, she should spur you again and yet again, though weeping, until you shall come laughing

Your body is the harp of your soul and it is yours to bring forth sweet music from it or confused sounds.

You work that you may keep peace with the earth and the soul of the earth.

This for God and this for myself; This for my soul, and this other for my body?

Seven times have I despised my soul: The sixth time when she despised the ugliness of a face, and knew not that it was one of her own masks.

I had a second birth when my soul and my body loved one another and were married.

I am bored with gabbers and their gab; my soul abhors them. . . . Is there any place where there is no traffic in empty talk? Is there on this earth one who does not worship himself talking?

Your body is the harp of the soul.

Your soul is oftentimes a battlefield, upon your reason and your judgment wage war against your passion and your appetite.

Oh, heart, if one should say to you that the soul perishes like the body, answer that the flower withers, but the seed remains.

In the depth of my soul there is a wordless song.

Say not, I have found the path of the soul Say rather, I have met the soul walking upon my path.

Love descends upon our souls by the will of God and not by the demand or the plea of the individual.

The soul is an embryo in the body of Man, and the day of death is the Day of awakening, for it is the Great era of labour and the rich Hour of creation.

Beauty is not a need but an ecstasy. It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand stretched forth, But rather a heart enflamed and a soul enchanted.

In the depth of my soul there is A wordless song - a song that lives In the seed of my heart. It refuses to melt with ink on Parchment; it engulfs my affection In a transparent cloak and flows, But not upon my lips.