"It had helped to keep her sane, that writing. Then, when time had begun again and real people had entered it, she'd abandoned it here. Now it's a whisper from the past. Is that what writing amounts to? The voice your ghost would have, if it had a voice?"

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Very high, very grand, and very wise is the ocean of God, the Water of Life. You went after the form and were lead astray. How can you see it? You abandoned the truth. Sometimes it is named "tree," sometimes "sun," sometimes "ocean," sometimes "cloud," one thing from which scores of discoveries arise, its slightest definition an everlasting life.

— Rumi