You can'tstop dreamingjust becausethe night neverseems toend.

A man must be a Solomon before his magical ring will work

A man must be a Salomon before his magical ring will work. (Hafiz)

i am anearthquake& dancemost heavilyupon all myfaults.

The sun never has an inferiority complex. It shines the same whether above or below.

How can you be a lover of loveand not be a lover of God?It is impossible.

‪You collide with destiny caught up in the mystery of walking the halls of a mind that's only inclined to recognize & expect victory.‬

You see yourself as a shipwreck, but we see your treasure glowing inside, beneath the oceans in your eyes.

You know how it goes:at some point in your life, you fell in love with someone and had a glimpse of God.Then you abandoned life and loverand started celebratingyour love for God.

Forget your voice, sing!Forget your feet, dance!Forget your life, live!Forget yourself and be!

You broughtme your darkness& I loved youwith the radianttears of athousand suns.

Do not think that your magic ring will work if you are not yourself Solomon.

A man must be a Salomon before his magical ring will work

Books had rescued me when i most needed saving... Books were smarter than me and words inspired me... to try something new, charge forward without a clear understanding of what would happen next, because "given something like death, what does it matter if one looks foolish now and then, or tries too hard, or cares too deeply?"In the end, Thoreau, Whitman, Hafiz, and a dozen other writers put me up to the task of seeing if I dared to "live a life worth living.

I keepholding upthe mirror of the sun,so you can see the stunningreflections of everythingyou’re becom-ing.

You yourself are your own barrier – rise from within it.

I'm a spiritual person, she said. "I believe in Allah, you know, though I don't always call It 'Allah' and I pray the way I want to pray. Sometimes I just look out at the stars and this love-fear thing comes over me, you know? And sometimes I might sit in a Christian church listening to them talk about Isa with a book of Hafiz in my hands instead of the hymnal. And you know what, Yusef? Sometimes, every once in a while, I get out my old rug and I pray like Muhammad prayed. I never learned the shit in Arabic and my knees are uncovered, but if Allah has a problem with that then what kind of Allah do we believe in?

The great poet Hafiz says that you should dye your prayer-carpet with wine if your teacher tells you to do so.