Don’t grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form.

Let the beauty of what you love be what you do.

Everyone has been made for some particular work, and the desire for that work has been put in every heart.

This is love: to fly toward a secret sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment. First to let go of life. Finally, to take a step without feet.

Something opens our wings. Something makes boredom and hurt disappear. Someone fills the cup in front of us: We taste only sacredness.

Don’t grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form.

It may be that the satisfaction I need depends on my going away, so that when I’ve gone and come back, I’ll find it at home.