There Is A Basket Of Fresh Bread

Lovers Have Heartaches That Can't Be Cured By Drugs Or Sleep, Or Games, But Only By Seeing Their Beloved.

A Man Or A Woman Is Said To Be Absorbed When The Water Has Total Control Of Him, And He No Control Of The Water. A Swimmer Moves Around Willfully. An Absorbed Being Has No Will But The Water's Going. Any Word Or Act Is Not Really Personal, But The Way The Water Has Of Speaking Or Doing. As When You Hear A Voice Coming Out Of A Wall, And You Know That It's Not The Wall Talking, But Someone Inside, Or Perhaps Someone Outside Echoing Off The Wall. Saints Are Like That. They've Achieved The Condition Of A Wall, Or A Door.

The World Is A Mountain, In Which Your Words Are Echoed Back To You.

There Is No Love Greater Than Love With No Object. For Then You, Yourself, Have Become Love, Itself.

You Moan, "she Left Me." "he Left Me," Twenty More Will Come.