There's A Path From Your Heart To

God Picks Up The Reed-flute World And Blows. Each Note Is A Need Coming Through One Of Us, A Passion, A Longing Pain. Remember The Lips Where The Wind-breath Originated, And Let Your Note Be Clear. Don't Try To End It. Be Your Note.

When I Run After What I Think I Want, My Days Are A Furnace Of Stress And Anxiety; If I Sit In My Own Place Of Patience, What I Need Flows To Me, And Without Pain. From This I Understand That What I Want Also Wants Me, Is Looking For Me And Attracting Me. There Is A Great Secret Here For Anyone Who Can Grasp It.

The Body Itself Is To Reveal The Light That's Blazing Inside Your Presence.

There's A Hidden Sweetness In The Stomach's Emptiness. We Are Lutes, No More, No Less. If The Soundbox Is Stuffed Full Of Anything, No Music.... When You're Full Of Food And Drink, Satan Sits Where Your Spirit Should.

I've Said Before That Every Craftsman Searches For What's Not There To Practice His Craft.