At night, I open the window and ask the moon to come and press its face against mine. Breathe into me. Close the language-door, and open the love-window. The moon won’t use the door, only the window.
Direct the mind resolutely towards God, restraining the senses in their various seats, and looking on the state of the body as a matter of indifference. Realise your oneness with God, remaining continually intent on identifying with its nature…for what use is there in other, empty things?
When an exalted soul realises that all sentient beings are one in relation to the Supreme – that is, that all beings are the minute parts of the One – how shall he have any more delusion and what grief will come to him?
Speak not harshly to anyone. Those thus addressed will retort. Painful, indeed, is vindictive speech. Blows in exchange may bruise you.
