Food & Drink Sayings

God suffers in the great multitudes whom his sacred word cannot reach.

Religious truth is captive in a small number of manuscript books, which guard the common treasure, instead of diffusing it. Let us break the seal which holds the holy things; give wings to the truth that by means of speech, no longer written at great…

Kabir, take no pride in high dwellings. Death levels all to earth, grass grows above.

What is God? He is the breath inside the breath.

The breath of all life is the Lord.

The world is like a great empty dream. Why should one toil away one's life?

Lazily waving my white-feathered fan, Baring my chest in the green of the glen.

I climb up high and look on the four seas, Heaven and earth spreading out so far. Frost blankets all the stuff of autumn, The wind blows with the great desert's cold.

It is very easy to criticize others but far more difficult to put one's own principles into practice, and it is when one forgets this truth, lauds oneself to the skies, treats everyone else as worthless, and generally despises others, that one's own …

How many a Cup of this forbidden Wine Must drown the memory of that Hour of thine, When, in the Tavern, thou didst set thy Seal To that dread Bond which binds thee up to mine!

Oh, threats of Hell and Hopes of Paradise! One thing at least is certain—This Life flies; One thing is certain and the rest is Lies; The Flower that once has blown for ever dies.

Earth then an endless Tabernacle drew Of Him whose coming none can tell, nor who, To fill the Bowl where now we pour the Wine, Before we too into the Dust shall strew.

Ere the Earth was, or the skies were, I Had a Soul, and with it my desire To drink the Wine of Life, and never cease To drain the Cup until it was quite dry.

What, without asking, hither hurried whence? And, without asking, whither hurried hence! Oh, many a Cup of this forbidden Wine Must drown the memory of that Hour of thine!

And if the Wine you drink, the Lip you press, End in the Nothing all Things end in—Yes—Then fancy while thou art, thou art but what Thou shalt be—Nothing—Thou shalt not be less.

Ah, fill the Cup:—what boots it to repeat How Time is slipping underneath our Feet: Unborn To-morrow, and dead Yesterday, Why fret about them if To-day be sweet!

Be kind to your sleeping heart. Take it out into the vast fields of light... and let it breathe.

Be empty of worrying. Think of who created thought!

The morning wind spreads its fresh smell. We must get up and take that in, that wind that lets us live. Breathe before it's gone.