A Quote by Rumi

Take sips of this pure wine being poured. Don't mind that you've been given a dirty cup. — © Rumi
Take sips of this pure wine being poured. Don't mind that you've been given a dirty cup.

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I poured the wine into the chalice our church had given me. In the one-sixth gravity of the moon the wine curled slowly and gracefully up the side of the cup. It was interesting to think that the very first liquid ever poured on the moon, and the first food eaten there, were communion elements.
An old wine-bibber having been smashed in a railway collision, some wine was poured on his lips to revive him.
Beneath the blossoms with a pot of wine, No friends at hand, so I poured alone; I raised my cup to invite the moon, Turned to my shadow, and we became three.
There is never the body of a man, how strong and stout soever, if it be troubled and inflamed, but will take more harm and offense by wine being poured into it.
Where does rain come from? It comes from all the dirty water that evaporates from the earth, like urine and the water you throw out after washing your feet. Isn't it wonderful how the sky can take that dirty water and change it into pure, clean water? Your mind can do the same with your defilements if you let it.
I'm not a neat freak. I don't mind things being messy but I mind them being dirty. I just can't relax in a dirty environment. I like things organized.
We have no need to teach pure motives to the mind. All that is necessary to make the mind pure is to undo the negative conditioning to which it has been subjected; then we will be left with Pure, Unconditioned Awareness.
Music is the cup that holds the wine of silence. Sound is that cup, but empty. Noise is that cup, but broken.
When I think about political races, and certain consultants, the word that comes to mind is dirty. Dirty, dirty, DIRTY!
This race is never grateful: from the first, One fills their cup at supper with pure wine, Which back they give at cross-time on a sponge, In bitter vinegar.
I never drank except a couple sips of wine at Thanksgiving.
Your lips and mine, two sips of wine, memories are made of this.
One not only drinks the wine, one smells it, observes it, tastes it, sips it and-one talks about it.
I had a little epiphany when I was a writer at 'Chicago' magazine. I sat down to dinner at the Ritz-Carlton. Somebody poured a white dessert wine with chocolate cake. It was a wine I would never have expected to make sense. The idea of any wine tasting fabulous with chocolate cake was fascinating to me.
We check everything to make sure it is pure and of the highest quality. There is good wine and bad wine; we buy only the good wine.
Go on, have a glass of wine with dinner. What is wine, anyway? Pure grapes. A glass of wine is much better for you than a Coke.
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