Love is true, and love comes from the heart, and it is not true that love can be hurt, and yet I will say there is no Human heart that does not know hurt. Each heart carries its own subterfuge of ache.

There are no wounded hearts, for there is not a heart in the world that can exist without love. Where there is love, there is no wound. And it is an impossibility that even one heart without love can exist. Only hearts with love exist. And yet My children have had wounded hearts, and My children know what it is to have an aching heart.

Is not the imprint of your foot in sand beautiful? Is not each grain of sand itself a miracle of its own?

What about the palm print of a child in color on his painting?

Is not an arm a lovely thing?

Is there a face in the world that does not hold preciousness? And when you love the soul of the person whose face you see, is not that face then the most beautiful face that exists in the world?

And when you rise to love, just to love and nothing else, just to be love untrammeled, then what face in the Universe will not look as beautiful as the face of the one you most love now?

The expression "Love everlasting" isn't quite correct because there is no corollary to the permanence of love. It cannot unlast. It can only be. It is all that can be. Nothing else is nor can be. Love can be kicked around — it is kicked around — and yet it is still love and it is unaffected.

What is there to speak of but love? You talk enough among yourselves about everything under the sun but not enough about love. No matter how you yearn for love, somehow it is not quite the topic of the day, as if love were surreptitious, something thought of but not to be spoken of in polite society.

Complaints about love seem to be acceptable. Love turned out not quite admirably, and that is considered worthy of discussion. Broken hearts are timely. Pain resulting from love is extolled, as if your great love meant great hurt.

What do I hear that is even more beautiful than Heavenletters in the language of Italy, you ask?

Love is energy. Anything less than love is squashed energy. Do not sit on your energy of love. Flaunt it. Be love that enters a room and leaves itself there. When you love, forgiveness does not enter the picture, for what does love have to forgive? And when you love another as yourself, where can selfishness exist? What can stand next to love? Oneness leaves room for nothing but itself.

Why would anyone aspire to anything less than love? And anything that is not love is less. All the treasures of the world are less. Everything but love is found wanting.

Love is energy, and money is a representation of energy.

A pile of a thousand-dollar bills in the middle of a room is a pile of paper until the consciousness of Human Beings enters the room. You think money is a cut-and-dried matter, but it is not at all. The energy of money seems high when you attribute your dreams to it. Money has the value you set on it.

Sometimes you want Me to be just like you. You want a God Who gets upset with things the way you do. You want a God Who storms and rages at the unevenness in the world as you do. You want Me to rail at injustice and take a fiery stand. You want Me to be a dragon who shoots fire from His mouth wherever and whenever you want Me to, and you want Me to be a lamb with you. Fortunately, I am not a dragon. I set the world in motion. I turned the wheel of it. You are the lamb of God.

Relationships are one of your challenges on Earth, would you agree?

You love with all your heart. You love voluminously. Your love is complete until — until the recipient of your love falls short and doesn't seem to love you enough. Must the love you give be so dependent upon how the recipient of your love responds? Must it?

Guilt is not honorable. It is a repeated appraisal. It is ego supreme. You punish yourself with guilt, as if punishment would erase error. Erase the concept of guilt. Erase the concept of sin, and guilt will evanesce.

Who are you to lend so much importance to what you see as error? In terms of the whole configuration of the universe, you cannot say with certainty what error is. You see only such a small part of life. Merely the twitch of a horse's tail.