Every moment a taste of that beauty in our mouths, another stashed in a pocket. Impossible to say what: no cypress so handsome, no sunlight, a lonely hiddenness. Other pleasure gathers a crowd, starts a fight, lots of noise there. But soul beauty stays quiet..his amazing whereabouts unknown inside my heart.
Quotes Rumi - page 5
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An eye is meant to see things. The soul is here for its own joy. A head has one use: For loving a true love. Feet: To chase after. Love is for vanishing into the sky. The mind, for learning what men have done and tried to do. Mysteries are not to be solved: The eye goes blind when it only wants to see why. A lover is always accused of something. But when he finds his love, whatever was lost in the looking comes back completely changed.
A lover is always accused of something. But when he finds his love, whatever was lost in the looking comes back completely changed.
The wine of this fleeting world caused your head to ache.
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When you do things from your soul, you feel a river moving in you, a joy.
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.
Those who are pure in heart achieve God-consciousness; they are truly and actually aware of God at the center of their being (their heart). These sanctified individuals are said to be Possessors of the Heart.
Achieve some perfection [excellence] yourself, so that you may not fall into sorrow by seeing the perfection in others.
If you can't smell the fragrance
don't come into the garden of Love.
if you are unwilling to undress
don't enter into the stream of
Truth. Stay where you are, don't
come our way
I am the dust in the sunlight,
I am the ball of the sun . . .
I am the mist of morning,
the breath of evening . . . .
I am the spark in the stone,
the gleam of gold in the metal . . . .
The rose and the nightingale
drunk with its fragrance.
I am the chain of being,
the circle of the spheres,
The scale of creation,
the rise and the fall.
I am what is and is not . . .
I am the soul in all.
I feel like the earth, astonished at fragrance borne in the air, made pregnant with mystery from a drop of rain.
O Love, O pure deep Love, be here, be now, Be all – worlds dissolve into your stainless endless radiance, Frail living leaves burn with your brighter than cold stares – Make me your servant, your breath, your core.
Start a huge, foolish project, like Noah…it makes absolutely no difference what people think of you.
Remember, the entrance door to the sanctuary is inside you.
There’s a morning when presence comes over your soul. You sing like a rooster in your earth-colored shape. Your heart hears and, no longer frantic, begins to dance.
This silence, this moment, every moment, if it's genuinely inside you, brings what you need. There's nothing to believe. Only when I stopped believing in myself did I come into this beauty. Sit quietly, and listen for a voice that will say, 'Be more silent.' Die and be quiet. Quietness is the surest sign that you've died. Your old life was a frantic running from silence. Move outside the tangle of fear-thinking. Live in silence.
Intellect in its effort to explain Love got stuck in the mud like an ass. Love alone could explain love and loving.
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Sadness to me is the happiest time, When a shining city rises from the ruins of my drunken mind. Those times when I'm silent and still as the earth, The thunder of my roar is heard across the universe.