He it is who mixed the two oceans, this one sweet, delicious; that one salty, bitter. Hū [He] is one solitary letter that alludes to the solitary Lord. It is neither a name nor an attribute, but an allusion to a Lord who has no name and no attribute. The one letter is the h. The ū is the resting place of the breath. Do you not see that when you make its dual, you say humā, not hūmā? This is so that you will know that it is indeed one letter pointing to the One Lord. Whenever you say any of the names and attributes, you say them from the tip of the tongue, in contrast to hū, which comes forth from the midst of the spirit and goes by way of the core of the breast and the depth of the heart. The tongue and lips have nothing to do with it. When this word comes from the depths of the breasts of the men of the religion's road and the lords of the eye of certainty-those who have limpid hearts, high aspirations, and empty breasts- what they mean and understand is nothing but the Real. Unless someone becomes a chevalier of this sort, the reality of the He-ness will not be unveiled to him. A great man was walking on a road, and a dervish was coming toward him. He said, “Where are you coming from?” He said, “He.” He said, “Where are you going?” He said, “He.” He said, “What is your goal?” He said, “He.” No matter what he asked, he replied “He.” This is like what someone said: “So much is your image in my eyes that whatever I see I fancy is you.” And He it is who mixed the two oceans, this one sweet, delicious; that one salty, bitter. The salty ocean has no sweetness, and the sweet no saltiness. The two are one in substantiality, but God in His power made them differ in attribute. In the same way He created hearts, some of which are quarries of certainty and recognition and others of which are loci of doubt and ingratitude. Sweet, delicious is an allusion to the hearts of the friends, which are bright with the light of guidance and adorned with the ornament of faith and within which is shining the radiance of tawḤīd's sun.