Grief can be the garden of compassion. If you keep your heart open through everything, your pain can become your greatest ally in your life's search for love and wisdom.
Whoever finds love beneath hurt and grief disappears into emptiness with a thousand new disguises
Through love the devil becomes an angel. Through love stones become soft as butter. Through love grief is like delight. Through love demons become the servants of God.
Keep your intelligence white hot and your grief glistening“ so your life will stay fresh.
Your name is upon my tongue your image is in my sight your memory is in my heart where can I send these words that I write ?
The friend who knows a lot more than you do will bring difficulties, and grief, and sickness, as medicine, as happiness, as the essence of the moment when you're beaten when you hear Checkmate, and can finally say, I trust you to kill me.
O Seeker, pain and suffering make one aware of God.
The sweetness and delights of the resting-place are in proportion to the pain endured on the Journey. Only when you suffer the pangs and tribulations of exile will you truly enjoy your homecoming.
For only when faithfulness turns to betrayal And betrayal into trust Can any human being become part of the truth.
Joy lives concealed in grief.
Your grief for what you've lost lifts a mirror up to where you're bravely working.
How will you know the difficulties of being human, if you are always flying off to blue perfection? Where will you plant your grief seeds? Workers need ground to scrape and hoe, not the sky of unspecified desire.
You left ground and sky weeping, mind and soul full of grief. No one can take your place in existence or in absence.
Don't run away from grief, o’ soul/ Look for the remedy inside the pain/ because the rose came from the thorn/ and the ruby came from a stone.
I saw grief drinking a cup of sorrow and called out, 'It tastes sweet, does it not?' 'You've caught me,' grief answered, 'and you've ruined my business. How can I sell sorrow, when you know it's a blessing?
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.
This place is a dream. Only a sleeper considers it real. Then death comes like dawn, and you wake up laughing at what you thought was your grief.