Rumi

Reason is like an officer when the king appears. The officer then loses his power and hides himself. Reason is the shadow cast by God; God is the sun.

Show me anger and I will show you 'Hurt'. Show me hurt and I will show you 'Love'. Peel the layers if you care!

There is a field beyond all notions of right and wrong. Come, meet me there.

Through love scraps of copper are turned to gold.

It is Love and the Lover that live eternally -_x000D_ _x000D_ Don't lend your heart to anything else; all else is borrowed.

I used to read the myths of love Now I have become the mythical lover

Oh god_x000D_ _x000D_ Let all lovers be content_x000D_ _x000D_ Give them happy endings_x000D_ _x000D_ Let their lives be celebrations_x000D_ _x000D_ Let their hearts dance in the fire of your love

Wisdom is like the rain. Its source is limitless, but it comes down according to the season.

From the moment you entered this world of existence, a ladder was put in front of you so you could escape.

It was our Creator who led us through the stages of evolution, from the animal state to the human. His purpose was to make us intelligent and aware, so that we might know Him.

The rewards of life and devotion to God are love and inner rapture, and the capacity to receive the light of God.

God's purpose for man is to acquire a seeing eye and an understanding heart.

Giving thanks for abundance is sweeter than the abundance itself.

In this mob of I's inside, which one is me? Hear me out. I know I'm wandering, but don't start putting a lid on this racket. No telling what I'll do then. Every moment I'm thrown by your story. One moment it's happy, and I'm singing. One moment it's sad, and I'm weeping. It turns bitter, and I pull away. But then you spill a little grace, and just like that, I'm all light. It's not so bad, this arrangement, actually.

If these poems repeat themselves, then so does Spring.

I turn all thorn then, but you come back again and make my thorniness fragrant and pink and petaled.

Sorrows are the rags of old clothes and jackets that serve to cover, and then are taken off. That undressing, and the beautiful naked body underneath, is the sweetness that comes after grief.

And even if this world burns up hidden harps will still play here.

Inside of us, there's a continual autumn. Our leaves fall and are blown out over the water.

You are a fountain of the sun's light. I am a willow shadow on the ground. You make my raggedness silky.

You fill yourself with the sharp pain of love, rather than its fulfillment.