“The contemplative life is a life of charity.  And charity is always twofold.  It has one object:  God.  But it reaches Him both directly, in Himself, and through other men. Our interior life dies out unless there be a constant vital contact with God through both these avenues.  If we
do not let ourselves be directed by other men, who speak in His name, we cannot pretend that we are directed by Him.  For Christ said to His Apostles:  ‘He that heareth you heareth me, and he that despiseth you despiseth me.  And he that despiseth me despiseth Him that sent me.”

–Thomas Merton

You delight in laying down laws,
Yet you delight more in breaking them.
Like children playing by the ocean who build sand-towers with
constancy and then destroy them with laughter.
But while you build your sand-towers the ocean brings more sand to the shore,
And when you destroy them the ocean laughs with you.
Verily the ocean laughs always with the innocent.

But what of those to whom life is not an ocean, and man-made laws are not sandtowers,
But to whom life is a rock, and the law a chisel with which they
would carve it in their own likeness?
What of the cripple who hates dancers?
What of the ox who loves his yoke and deems the elk and deer of the forest stray and vagrant things?
What of the old serpent who cannot shed his skin, and calls all
others naked and shameless?
And of him who comes early to the wedding-feast, and when over-fed and tired goes his way saying that all feasts are violation and all feasters lawbreakers?

What shall I say of these save that they too stand in the sunlight, but with their backs to the sun?
They see only their shadows, and their shadows are their laws.
And what is the sun to them but a caster of shadows?
And what is it to acknowledge the laws but to stoop down and trace their shadows upon the earth?
But you who walk facing the sun, what images drawn on the earth can hold you?
You who travel with the wind, what weather-vane shall direct your course?
What man’s law shall bind you if you break your yoke but upon no man’s prison door?
What laws shall you fear if you dance but stumble against no man’s iron chains?
And who is he that shall bring you to judgment if you tear off your garment yet leave it in no man’s path?

People of Orphalese, you can muffle the drum, and you can loosen the strings of the lyre, but who shall command the skylark not to sing?

–Kahlil Gibran

“Wisdom, the Maharal had often taught, belonged to all. Anyone who actively sought to acquire it, regardless of their knowledge or academic background, was to be considered as wise. As the Talmud taught: ‘Who is he Wise One? The one who learns from everyone,’ which Rabbi Loevy explained to mean, a person who was so earnestly intent on attaining wisdom that he or she was open to receiving it from anyone, man, woman or child, teacher or student, sage or ignoramus. Wisdom, he thus taught, was determined not by the depth of one’s knowledge but by the intensity of the process employed toward its attainment. As the Talmud put it: ‘In accorcance with the intensity of the effort is the intensity of the reward’.”

– Gershon Winkler (The Sacred Stones)