“Our children are flowers but only for us. Nevertheless, smell of these flowers goes to everyone.”

“Whoever reaches into a rosebush may seize a handful of flowers; but no matter how many one holds, it's only a small portion of the whole. Nevertheless, a handful is enough to experience the nature of the flowers. Only if we refuse to reach into the bush, because we can't possibly seize all the flowers at once, or if we spread out our handful of roses as if it were the whole of the bush itself -- only then does it bloom apart from us, unknown to us, and we are left alone.”

“When you smell a flower, where is the smell before you smell the flower? Think about that one.”

“Love smells like a flower in bloom. A flower that's sitting on a pile of steaming feces.”

“People only picked the pretty, sweet-smelling flowers. The ones with thorns were left alone.”

“And all of us with our closed eyes smelled the frangipani blossoms in the big rectangles of open wall, flowers so sweet they conjure up sin or heaven, depending on which way you are headed.”