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. – Rumi

Inside of us, there’s a continual autumn. Our leaves fall and are blown out over the water. – Rumi

You were born with wings, why prefer to crawl through life? – Rumi

You go from village to village on your horse asking everyone, Has anyone seen my horse? – Rumi