A lover hasn't the heart for knowledge nor the patience for study. He already knows to perfection when the Beloved is near. Does a thirsty man sit and debate the words for water? Give him one glass, and he will drink the truth of them all. Such a one does not notice pain. In him, all things are consumed. He glows with inner heat; his eyes are embers from the fire. Yet because of that negation he feels Her touch like no other; because he burns with unending thirst a drop tells the mystery of oceans. Thus, the lover takes to pain like a student to a favored lesson: for insofar as he writhes in agony Her merest word of balm is revelation.