love

Know this: If you are afraid of starting over, it means you have not yet begun.

We cannot see the beauty of life with our eyes closed. Only when we cry with our eyes open can we begin to shed tears of joy.

True spirituality respects the vessel of creation we call __uman_ and intuits that because this vessel was created by God, it could only ever be perfect__ven if it does need some fine-tuning from time to time.

We are the guardians of our beings.

All of life is a ceremony where we get to know and explore our wholeness.

Get to know the master within you. Fall at the feet of your Self.

He studied my appearance carefully. __ou cut your hair._ __es. Do you like it?_ __hat depends. How long is it?_ I pulled a curl down and showed him it ended just past my shoulder. He grunted, __hat__ still long enough, so I like it._ __ong enough for what?_ __ong enough for a man to run his hands through.

As we stand before this sacred doorway [the doorway to meaning], we realize its response to us is conditional, albeit only in the sense that it__ reflective. If we stand before it arrogant and haughty, indeed the door will remained locked. If we stand before it in doubt, it will disappear. If we knock upon it distracted, our minds somewhere else, we fail to see it open. Anyone in the world can go through it, and there could never be a key. Yet it opens only when we approach it in a certain, truthful way. Otherwise, we may not notice its openness and its infinite offering again and again.To pass into this fertile land of meaning, we must arrive in reverence. We must approach the door in silence, focused upon the primordial pulse of our beings and all of life. We must allow ourselves to open into acceptance, for within acceptance lives our accountability and, therefore, our ability to extract meaning for our growth__nd the possibility for things to come to life. We must allow ourselves to be released into the current, the movement of acceptance, otherwise known as surrender, so that we may be taken and discovered unto ourselves. And once we are through, by God, we must celebrate, for what else is there to do?

Can I kiss you?_ And she would let him, lightly on her lips, a moment of brief anticipation. __our kisses are like sugar woman._ He would tell her affectionately. __o sweet._ He would close in on her and then ask softly, __lease spend the night with me.

[Lizzie Bennington to a reporter who has asked for her opinion about Jack Archer's celebrated thighs.] __hen you come back from a set down and bring the match to a final set tiebreak and are a point away from winning the match, only to have what looks like an extremely fit player call a time out because of a cramp and then watch that player sit back and casually converse and laugh while you do your best to keep your mental focus and your body moving so you don__ grow cold and cramp yourself, I hardly think you__ concern yourself with his burgeoning manhood, let alone his thighs!

He was working that charm right now on the trainer who kneeled before him and touched his thigh as though it were the thigh of David, Michelangelo__ glorious statue come to life right here on court.

So nothing! Look, I get that coming here meant you could finally do things on your own, but you are just supposed to just take sips of freedom Norah _ don__ just slam it down your throat like a tequila shot!

There are no guarantees with love,_ her father said, reading her mind. __ou can__ hold some of it back, like a deposit, so you can get your money back if something goes wrong. You have to give yourself wholeheartedly, whatever the cost.

When once the Heart is awakened, every single moment 'in-time' is a treasure to beheld

Well, with that filly in my line of vision blushing like a virgin, something in me was bound to stand at attention. And my walking legs were occupied.

Strange, how a moment of existence can cut so deeply into our being that while ages pass unnoticed, a brief love can structure and define the very topology of our consciousness ever after.

Real love finds you once, if you're lucky.

We must try to remember everything, every movement, every stretch, every convulsion that made us how we move as we readily grow in our outer body that encompasses the planets, the suns and the moons in every other body that we touch, in every other mouth that we kissed, in every other language that we try to comprehend; for they are not the outside of a stranger, nor are they just images of our psyche, but the very being of ourselves, the dimensional levels of our very existence weaving colours in the tapestry of creation, yet the very non-existence of the template is proof of consciousness, of ascension, of Life.