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“The lover drinks and the cup-bearer pours. The lover thinks but the cup-bearer knows: love begets love. Since this wine is love, then this cup is love, then this tavern is love, then this life is love.”

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“For selv om du tilbringer livet med å jage opplevelser, lytte til den mest utsøkte klassisk musikk og bli full av fantastisk utsikt over fjell og fossefall,er alt dette ikke verdt en krone hvis du ikke deler det med noen. Alt beløper seg til det. Sant nok, vi må oppleve de fleste ting i ensomhet for å vokse,skape, ødelegge og vokse igjen, men vår glede når en terskel i isolasjon. Deter det verste som kan skje å bli en øy. Man må bli hele verden.”

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“I have no use for these other loves. Seal them shut in jars and place them in the pantry. A reserve of love. Thank them for their love. They are so kind. Perhaps store them in the fridge For others to take. They say love is a panacea. I know it is not. Flakes of snow, no two are alike. When I am down on my knees, hopeless and angry, for the world no longer makes sense, I won't look in the pantry or fridge. It is your hand pressing on my shoulder that makes me whole, makes me forget. What trouble? What world?”

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“El amor no nos enceguece; más bien, borra las ilusiones para que podamos ver con claridad.”

KamandKojouriKamand KojouriSpanishInspiraciónSpanish QuoteConcienciaUnidadLa VidaVerCitaIluminaciónIlusionesSeparaciónEl AmorInspiradoNombreLa ConcienciaLa PazClaridadDivisiónLa ExperienciaLa UnidadIluminarCiegoCita Del AmorLa FilosofíaLemaBorraEl Amor Es Todo Lo Que NecesitaEncegueceJuntoLa ArmoníaLa CegueraLa FormaLa IdentidadLa IlusiónPodamosTodo Lo Que Necesita Es AmorUn Amor
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“Azért táncolunk, hogy elcsábítsuk önmagunkat. Hogy beleszeressünk önmagunkba. Amikor a másikkal táncolok, azt manifesztálom, amit a legjobban szeretek magamban, lehet hogy meglátják és bele(énk)szeretnek.”

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“Listen. Do you see that you can’t hear snowfall? Look. Do you sense that you can’t see love? Touch. Do you grasp that you can’t catch poems? Try. Smell this glass. Go on taste this cloud. These material senses won’t get you far until you feel the velvet glove caress your soul.”

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“My love, you are driving the entire world mad. The nightingales are committing suicide one by one out of jealousy of your voice. The roses took one glance at your beauty and folded themselves from shame. The trees now only whisper your name and the sky hasn’t stopped crying since you looked up. Have pity on us, my love. We have already broken all the mirrors and glass out of fear that you will forget us and fall in love with yourself once you see what we all cannot stop seeing.”

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“Make no mistake about it. We are born blind, deaf, and mute. It is neither these eyes that give us sight, nor these ears that give us sound. It is not even these lips that give us voice. It is only love. Love makes us seek beauty and truth. Love yearns to connect. To experience. To understand. So close your eyes at once. Don’t utter a word. Perk up your ears and listen to that silent sound inside you where all this is found.”

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“We all wear masks to veil the truth. Truth is nakedness. Truth is fear. Truth is the gardener making you sit on his lap asking you to light his cigarette. Truth is father— with a limp cigarette on his lips —telling you to never use his matches to light it for him. Truth is father yelling: "It is not nice for little girls to do so”. Truth is a curious girl wanting to ignite a match like a woman. Truth is the maid watching from the kitchen, knowing. But knowing isn’t truth. Truth is the maid calling: Come. Come. Truth is the gardener understanding. But understanding isn’t truth. Truth is the maid saying, "Stay away!" Truth is a girl thinking she is in control. That nothing happened, nothing bad. But the truest truth is a girl knowing, a girl understanding that on that day someone stole a little piece of her truth.”

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