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Joy! Joy! I triumph! Now no more I know
Myself as simply me. I burn with love
Unto myself, and bury me in love.
The centre is within me and its wonder
Lies as a circle everywhere about me.
Joy! Joy! No mortal thought can fathom me.
--
"The Triumph of the Soul" as translated by Margaret Smith in The Persian Mystics

 

Attar

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Love must kiss that mortal’s eyes
Who hopes to see fair Arcady.
No gold can buy you entrance there;
But beggared Love may go all bare—
No wisdom won with weariness;
But Love goes in with Folly’s dress—
No fame that wit could ever win;
But only Love may lead Love in.

 

Henry Cuyler Bunner

 

I say that conceit is just as natural a thing to human minds as a centre is to a circle. But little-minded people's thoughts move in such small circles that five minutes' conversation gives you an arc long enough to determine their whole curve. An arc in the movement of a large intellect does not sensibly differ from a straight line. Even if it have the third vowel ['I', the first-person pronoun] as its centre, it does not soon betray it. The highest thought, that is, is the most seemingly impersonal; it does not obviously imply any individual centre.

 

Oliver Wendell Holmes

 

My mind has touched the farthest horizons of mortal imagination and reaches ever outward to embrace infinity. There is no knowledge beyond my comprehension, no art or skill upon this entire planet that lies beyond the mastery of my hand. And yet, like Faust, I look in vain, I learn in vain... For as long as I love, no woman will ever look on me in love.

 

Susan Kay

 

I love, I love, I love, killer whales, and I love mangos, and Iggy Pop too, I love Iggy Pop, and eating, getting up in the morning, and going swimming, and taking a good shit, and I love all of you too!I love John Frusciante who's back in the band. Who loved Dave Navarro?(boos)That's what I thought!

 

Flea (musician)

 

The world cannot bury Christ. The earth is not deep enough for His tomb, the clouds are not wide enough for His winding-sheet; He ascends into the heavens, but the heavens cannot contain Him. He still lives — in the church which burns unconsumed with His love; in the truth that reflects His image; in the hearts which burn as He talks with them by the way.

 

Edward Thomson