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No Man Can Reveal To You Aught But That Which Already Lies Half Asleep In The Dawning Of Your Knowledge. The Teacher Who Walks In The Shadow Of The Temple, Among His Followers, Gives Not Of His Wisdom But Rather Of His Faith And His Lovingness. If He Is Indeed Wise He Does Not Bid You Enter The House Of His Wisdom, But Rather Leads You To The Threshold Of Your Own Mind.

-Khalil Gibran

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No Man Can Reveal

Khalil Gibran

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No Man Can Reveal To You Aught But That Which Already Lies Half Asleep In The Dawning Of Your Knowledge. The Teacher Who Walks In The Shadow Of The Temple, Among His Followers, Gives Not Of His Wisdom But Rather Of His Faith And His Lovingness. If He Is Indeed Wise He Does Not Bid You Enter The House Of His Wisdom, But Rather Leads You To The Threshold Of Your Own Mind.

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Jesus Was Not Sent Here To Teach The People To Build Magnificent Churches And Temples Amidst The Cold Wretched Huts And Dismal Hovels. He Came To Make The Human Heart A Temple, And The Soul An Altar, And The Mind A Priest.

I Want Every Image To Be The Beginning Of An Unseen Image.

The Human Heart Cries Out For Help; The Human Soul Implores Us For Deliverance; But We Do Not Heed Their Cries, For We Neither Hear Nor Understand. But The Man Who Hears And Understands We Call Mad, And Flee From Him. Thus The Nights Pass, And We Live In Unawareness; And The Days Greet Us And Embrace Us. But We Live In Constant Dread Of Day And Night.

And Let To-day Embrace The Past With Remembrance And The Future With Longing.

When God Created Man, He Gave Him Music As A Language Different From All Other Languages. And Early Man Sang His Glory In The Wilderness; And Drew The Hearts Of Kings And Moved Them From Their Thrones.

And Before My Soul Took Me To Task I Was Hard Of Hearing; I Heard Only Tumult And Uproar. But Now I Am All Ears Listening To The Silence And Its Choirs Singing The Hymns Of Time, Intoning The Praises Of The Firmament, Revealing The Secrets Of The Invisible.

Every Beauty And Greatness In This World Is Created By A Single Thought Or Emotion Inside A Man. Every Thing We See Today, Made By Past Generations, Was, Before Its Appearance, A Thought In The Mind Of A Man Or An Impulse In The Heart Of A Woman.

My Yearning Is My Cup, My Burning Thirst Is My Drink, And My Solitude Is My Intoxication; I Do Not And Shall Not Quench My Thirst. But In This Burning That Is Never Extinguished Is A Joy That Never Wanes.

I Am The Lover's Gift; I Am The Wedding Wreath; I Am The Memory Of A Moment Of Happiness; I Am The Last Gift Of The Living To The Dead; I Am A Part Of Joy And A Part Of Sorrow.

Which Of You Would Be Silent - When All Else Sings Together In Unison?

Happiness Is A Myth We Seek, If Manifested Surely Irks; Like River Speeding To The Plain, On Its Arrival Slows And Murks. For Man Is Happy Only In His Aspiration To The Heights; When He Attains His Goal, He Cools And Longs For Other Distant Flights.

Sayings Remain Meaningless Until They Are Embodied In Habits.

In The Depth Of Your Hopes And Desires Lies Your Silent Knowledge Of The Beyond.

Love Provided Me With A Tongue And Tears.

You Are A Flower Crushed Beneath The Feet Of The Animal That Is Concealed In A Human Being. Take Comfort, In That You Are The Flower Crushed And Not The Foot That Has Crushed It.

O Love, Whose Lordly Hand Has Bridled My Desires, And Raised My Hunger And My Thirst To Dignity And Pride, Let Not The Strong In Me And The Constant Eat The Bread Or Drink The Wine That Tempt My Weaker Self. Let Me Rather Starve, And Let My Heart Parch With Thirst, And Let Me Die And Perish, Ere I Stretch My Hand To A Cup You Did Not Fill, Or A Bowl You Did Not Bless.

Verily The Kindness That Gazes Upon Itself In A Mirror Turns To Stone, And A Good Deed That Calls Itself By Tender Names Becomes The Parent To A Curse.

Passionate Love Is A Quenchless Thirst.

A Friend Who Is Far Away Is Sometimes Much Nearer Than One Who Is At Hand. Is Not The Mountain Far More Awe-inspiring And More Clearly Visible To One Passing Through The Valley Than To Those Who Inhabit The Mountain?

For A Love To Grow Through The Test Of Everyday Living, One Must Respect That Zone Of Privacy Where One Retires To Relate To The Inside Instead Of The Outside.

Life Unfolds Itself In Mysteries Ways.

Even While The Earth Sleeps We Travel.

If I Extend An Empty Hand And In Retrieving It And Finding It Still Empty, I Feel Disappointment, That Is Foolishness; Yet If I Extend A Hand Which Is Full And Yet Find No One To Receive It, Then That Is Hopelessness.

Vague And Nebulous Is The Beginning Of All Things, But Not Their End.

A Shy Failure Is Nobler Than An Immodest Success.

Philosophy Began When Man Ate The Produce Of The Earth And Suffered Indigestion.

Humanity Looks Upon Jesus The Nazarene As A Poor-born Who Suffered Misery And Humiliation With All Of The Weak. And He Is Pitied, For Humanity Believes He Was Crucified Painfully. . . . And All That Humanity Offers To Him Is Crying And Wailing And Lamentation. For Centuries Humanity Has Been Worshiping Weakness In The Person Of The Savior. The Nazarene Was Not Weak! He Was Strong And Is Strong! But The People Refuse To Heed The True Meaning Of Strength.

When God Threw Me, A Pebble, Into This Wondrous Lake, I Disturbed Its Surface With Countless Circles. But When I Reached The Depths, I Became Very Still.

Fear Of The Devil Is One Way Of Doubting God.

It Is Wrong To Think That Love Comes From Long Companionship And Persevering Courtship. Love Is The Offspring Of Spiritual Affinity And Unless That Affinity Is Created In A Moment, It Will Not Be Created For Years Or Even Generations.

In The Depths Of Your Hopes And Desires, Lies Your Silent Knowledge Of The Beyond, And Like Seeds Dreaming Beneath The Snow, Your Heart Dreams Of Spring. Trust The Dreams, For In Them Is Hidden The Gate To Eternity.

Real Beauty Lies In The Spiritual Accord That Is Called Love Which Can Exist Between A Man And A Woman.

When Love Beckons To You, Follow Him, Though His Ways Are Hard And Steep.

One Day You Will Ask Me Which Is More Important? My Life Or Yours? I Will Say Mine And You Will Walk Away Not Knowing That You Are My Life.

To Belittle, You Have To Be Little.

Your Saying 'i Do Not Understand You' Is Praise Beyond My Worth, And An Insult You Do Not Deserve.

A Teacher Can Only Lead You To The Threshold Of Your Own Mind.

Faith Is An Oasis In The Heart Which Will Never Be Reached By The Caravan Of Thinking.

Enthusiasm Is A Volcano On Whose Top Never Grows The Grass Of Hesitation.

Wailing And Lamentation Befit Those Who Stand Before The Throne Of Life And Depart Without Leaving In Its Hands A Drop Of The Sweat Of Their Brows Or The Blood Of Their Hearts.

And Is Not The Lute That Soothes Your Spirit The Very Wood That Was Hollowed With Knives?

Inspirational Love

There Are Those Who Give With Joy, And That Joy Is Their Reward.

Famous Inspirational

But Now I Have Learned To Listen To Silence. To Hear Its Choirs Singing The Song Of Ages, Chanting The Hymns Of Space, And Disclosing The Secrets Of Eternity.

He Who Seeks Ecstasy In Love Should Not Complain Of Suffering.

If It Were Not For Guests All Houses Would Be Graves.

Long Were The Days Of Pain I Have Spent Within Its Walls, And Long Were The Nights Of Aloneness; And Who Can Depart From His Pain And His Aloneness Without Regret?

Virtue Tested: "have I Not Survived Hunger And Thirst, Suffering, And Mockery For The Sake Of The Truth Which Heaven Has Awakened In My Heart?

I Am A Poet Who Composes What Life Proses, And Who Proses What Life Composes.

You May Give Them Your Love, But Not Your Thoughts. For They Have Their Own Thoughts.

The Sorrowful Spirit Finds Relaxation In Solitude. It Abhors People, As A Wounded Deer Deserts The Herd And Lives In A Cave Until It Is Healed Or Dead.

Science And Religion Are In Full Accord, But Science And Faith Are In Complete Discord.

If Your Knowledge Teaches You Not The Value Of Things, And Frees You Not From The Bondage To Matter, You Shall Never Come Near The Throne Of Truth.

Zeal Is A Volcano, The Peak Of Which The Grass Of Indecisiveness Does Not Grow.

Braving Obstacles And Hardships Is Braver Than Retreat To Tranquility.

It Has Been Said That Next To Hunger And Thirst, Our Most Basic Human Need Is For Storytelling.

Hunger And Thirst

Between What Is Said And Not Meant, And What Is Meant And Not Said, Most Of Love Is Lost.

Only Those Beneath Me Can Envy Or Hate Me. I Have Never Been Envied Nor Hated; I Am Above No One. Only Those Above Me Can Praise Or Belittle Me. I Have Never Been Praised Nor Belittled; I Am Below No One.

The Brooks Flow To Their Lover, The Sea, And The Flowers Smile At The Object Of Their Passion, The Light. The Mist Rolls Down To Its Beloved, The Valley. And I? In Me Is What Brooks Do Not Know, What Flowers Do Not Hear, What The Mist Does Not Apprehend. You See Me Alone In My Love, Solitary In My Yearning.

I Would Not Exchange The Laughter Of My Heart For The Fortunes Of The Multitudes.

Knowledge Of The Self Is The Mother Of All Knowledge. So It Is Incumbent On Me To Know My Self, To Know It Completely, To Know Its Minutiae, Its Characteristics, Its Subtleties, And Its Very Atoms.

For The Breath Of Life Is In The Sunlight And The Hand Of Life Is In The Wind.

Limited Love Asks For Possession Of The Beloved, But The Unlimited Asks Only For Itself.

You Progress Not Through What Has Been Done, But Reaching Towards What Has Yet To Be Done.

The Saint And The Sinner Are Twin Brothers...one Was Born But The Moment Before The Other.

Many Are The Fools Who Say That Jesus Stood In His Own Path And Opposed Himself; That He Knew Not His Own Mind, And In The Absence Of That Knowledge Confounded Himself.

The Ageless Melody, Unheard, Heals; The Healing Vision, Unseen, Leads; The True Leaders, Immortal, Know...

Be Like The Flower, Turn Your Faces To The Sun.

Men Would Bless You Or Curse You; The Curse, A Protest Against Failure, The Blessing, A Hymn Of The Hunter Who Comes Back From The Hills With Provision For His Mate.

Conscience Is A Just But Weak Judge. Weakness Leaves It Powerless To Execute Its Judgment.

The Soul Is An Embryo In The Body Of Man, And The Day Of Death Is The Day Of Awakening, For It Is The Great Era Of Labour And The Rich Hour Of Creation.

Each Day Look Into Your Conscience And Amend Your Faults; If You Fail In This Duty You Will Be Untrue To The Knowledge And Reason That Are Within You. Keep A Watchful Eye Over Yourself As If You Were Your Own Enemy; For You Cannot Learn To Govern Yourself, Unless You First Learn To Govern Your Own Passions And Obey The Dictates Of Your Conscience.

The Most Pitiful Among Men Is He Who Turns His Dreams Into Silver And Gold.

I Have Passed The Mountain Peak And My Soul Is Soaring In The Firmament Of Complete And Unbounded Freedom; I Am In Comfort, I Am In Peace.

Beauty Is Eternity Gazing At Itself In A Mirror.

The Universe Is My Country And The Human Family Is My Tribe.

March On. Do Not Tarry. To Go Forward Is To Move Toward Perfection. March On, And Fear Not The Thorns, Or The Sharp Stones On Life's Path.

The Truly Great Man Is He Who Would Master No One, And Who Would Be Mastered By None.

Your Body Is The Harp Of Your Soul And It Is Yours To Bring Forth Sweet Music From It Or Confused Sounds.

You Were Born Together, And Together You Shall Be Forevermore. You Shall Be Together When The White Wings Of Death Scatter Your Days. Ay, You Shall Be Together Even In The Silent Memory Of God. But Let There Be Spaces In Your Togetherness, And Let The Winds Of The Heavens Dance Between You.

And When One Of You Falls Down He Falls For Those Behind Him, A Caution Against The Stumbling Stone. Ay, And He Falls For Those Ahead Of Him, Who Though Faster And Surer Of Foot, Yet Removed Not The Stumbling Stone.

The Obvious Is That Which Is Never Seen Until Someone Expresses It Simply.

Seven Times Have I Despised My Soul: The Sixth Time When She Despised The Ugliness Of A Face, And Knew Not That It Was One Of Her Own Masks.

Poetry Is A Deal Of Joy And Pain And Wonder, With A Dash Of The Dictionary.

Love Is A Magic Ray Emitted From The Burning Core Of The Soul And Illuminating The Surrounding Earth. It Enables Us To Perceive Life As A Beautiful Dream Between One Awakening And Another.

When You Reach The End Of What You Should Know, You Will Be At The Beginning Of What You Should Sense.

When I Planted My Pain In The Field Of Patience It Bore Fruit Of Happiness.

How Often Have You Sailed In My Dreams. And Now You Come In My Awakening, Which Is My Deeper Dream.

And As A Single Leaf Turns Not Yellow But With The Silent Knowledge Of The Whole Tree.

Our Pain Carves Out A Larger Space For Love To Fill.

All Work Is Empty Save When There Is Love.

Tortoises Can Tell You More About The Road Than Hares.

You See But Your Shadow When You Turn Your Back To The Sun.

That Deepest Thing, That Recognition, That Knowledge, That Sense Of Kinship Began The First Time I Saw You,and It Is The Same Now - Only A Thousand Times Deeper And Tenderer. I Shall Love You To Eternity. I Loved You Long Before We Met In This Flesh. I Knew That When I First Saw You. It Was Destiny. We Are Together Like This And Nothing Can Shake Us Apart.

At Ebb Tide I Wrote A Line Upon The Sand, And Gave It All My Heart And All My Soul. At Flood Tide I Returned To Read What I Had Inscribed And Found My Ignorance Upon The Shore.

For If You Bake Bread With Indifference, You Bake A Bitter Bread That Feeds But Half Man's Hunger.

I Discovered The Secret Of The Sea In Meditation Upon A Dewdrop.

The Smallest Act Of Kindness Is Worth More Than The Greatest Intention.

Our Worst Fault Is Our Preoccupation With The Faults Of Others.

If It's A Despot You Would Dethrone, See First That His Throne Erected Within You Is Destroyed.

He Is Short-sighted Who Looks Only On The Path He Treads And The Wall On Which He Leans.

Your Soul Is Oftentimes A Battlefield, Upon Your Reason And Your Judgment Wage War Against Your Passion And Your Appetite.

My Loneliness Was Born When Men Praised My Talkative Faults And Blamed My Silent Virtues.

When You Work You Fulfill A Part Of Earth's Furthest Dream, Assigned To You When That Dream Was Born, And What Is It To Work With Love? It Is To Weave The Cloth With Threads Drawn From Your Heart, Even As If Your Beloved Were To Wear That Cloth. It Is To Build A House With Affection, Even As If Your Beloved Were To Dwell In That House. It Is To Sow Seeds With Tenderness And Reap The Harvest With Joy, Even As If Your Beloved Were To Eat The Fruit. It Is To Charge All Things You Fashion With A Breath Of Your Own Spirit. Work Is Love Made Visible

Is Not The Cup That Holds Your Wine The Very Cup That Was Burned In The Potter’s Oven?

Inspirational Love

Would That I Could Be The Peacemaker In Your Soul, That I Might Turn The Discord And The Rivalry Of Your Elements Into Oneness And Melody.

And You Would Accept The Seasons Of Your Heart Just As You Have Always Accepted That Seasons Pass Over Your Fields And You Would Watch With Serenity Through The Winters Of Your Grief.

Time Has Been Transformed, And We Have Changed; It Has Advanced And Set Us In Motion; It Has Unveiled Its Face, Inspiring Us With Bewilderment And Exhilaration.

Your Clothes Conceal Much Of Your Beauty, Yet They Hide Not The Unbeautiful.

Beautiful Clothes

Remember, One Just Man Causes The Devil Greater Affliction Than A Million Blind Believers.

If Winter Should Say, 'spring Is In My Heart,' Who Would Believe Winter?

Many A Doctrine Is Like A Window Pane. We See Truth Through It But It Divides Us From Truth.

Of The Good In You I Can Speak, But Not Of The Evil. For What Is Evil But Good Tortured By Its Own Hunger And Thirst? Verily When Good Is Hungry It Seeks Food Even In Dark Caves, And When It Thirsts It Drinks Even Of Dead Waters.

We Wanderers, Ever Seeking The Lonelier Way, Begin No Day Where We Have Ended Another Day; And No Sunrise Finds Us Where Sunset Left Us.

Only Once Have I Been Made Mute. It Was When A Man Asked Me, 'who Are You?'

For Even As Love Crowns You So Shall He Crucify You. Even As He Is For Your Growth So Is He For Your Pruning. Even As He Ascends To Your Height And Caresses Your Tenderest Branches That Quiver In The Sun, So Shall He Descend To Your Roots And Shake Them In Their Clinging To The Earth.

The Deeper That Sorrow Carves Into Your Being, The More Joy You Can Contain... When You Are Joyous Look Deep Into Your Heart And You Will Find That It Is Only That Which Has Given You Sorrow That Is Giving You Joy.

Inspirational Love

Trees Are Poems That The Earth Writes Upon The Sky.

God Has Created Several Doors Which Open Onto Truth. He Opens Them To All Those Who Knock On Them With The Hand Of Faith.

For In Truth It Is Life That Gives Unto Life-while You, Who Deem Yourself A Giver, Are But A Witness.

Wisdom Ceases To Be Wisdom When It Becomes Too Proud To Weep, Too Grave To Laugh, And Too Selfish To Seek Other Than Itself.

Say Not, 'i Have Found The Truth,' But Rather, 'i Have Found A Truth.' Say Not, ' I Have Found The Path Of The Soul.' Say Rather, 'i Have Met The Soul Walking Upon My Path.' For The Soul Walks Upon All Paths. The Soul Walks Not Upon A Line, Neither Does It Grow Like A Reed. The Soul Unfolds Itself, Like A Lotus Of Countless Petals.

The Thirst Of Soul Is Sweeter Than The Wine Of Material Things, And The Fear Of Spirit Is Dearer Than The Security Of The Body.

And Your Fragrance Shall Be My Breath, And Together We Shall Rejoice Through All The Seasons.

My Brothers, Seek Counsel Of One Another, For Therein Lies The Way Out Of Error And Futile Repentance. The Wisdom Of The Many Is Your Shield Against Tyranny. For When We Turn To One Another For Counsel We Reduce The Number Of Our Enemies.

He Alone Is Great Who Turns The Voice Of The Wind Into A Song Made Sweeter By His Own Loving.

Hallow The Body As A Temple To Comeliness And Sanctify The Heart As A Sacrifice To Love; Love Recompenses The Adorers.

When You Love You Should Not Think You Can Direct The Course Of Love, For Love, If It Finds You Worthy, Directs Your Course.

Prayer Is The Song Of The Heart. It Reaches The Ear Of God Even If It Is Mingled With The Cry And The Tumult Of A Thousand Men.

Inspiration Is In Seeing A Part Of The Whole With The Part Of The Whole In You.

You Cannot Judge Any Man Beyond Your Knowledge Of Him, And How Small Is Your Knowledge.

Hearts United In Pain And Sorrow Will Not Be Separated By Joy And Happiness. Bonds That Are Woven In Sadness Are Stronger Than The Ties Of Joy And Pleasure. Love That Is Washed By Tears Will Remain Eternally Pure And Faithful.

Your Friend Is Your Field Which You Sow With Love And Reap With Thanksgiving.

But If You Love And Must Needs Have Desires, Let These Be Your Desires: To Melt And Be Like A Running Brook That Sings Its Melody To The Night. To Know The Pain Of Too Much Tenderness. To Be Wounded By Your Own Understanding Of Love; And To Bleed Willingly And Joyfully. To Wake At Dawn With A Winged Heart And Give Thanks For Another Day Of Loving; To Rest At Noon Hour And Meditate Love's Ecstasy; To Return Home At Eventide With Gratitude; And Then To Sleep With A Prayer For The Beloved In Your Heart And A Song Of Praise On Your Lips.

As The Strings Of A Lute Are Apart Though They Quiver The Same Music.

I Use Hate As A Weapon To Defend Myself; Had I Been Strong, I Would Never Have Needed That Kind Of Weapon.

My Soul Gave Me Good Counsel, Teaching Me Never To Delight In Praise Or To Be Distressed By Reproach. Before My Soul Taught Me, I Doubted The Value Of My Accomplishments Until The Passing Days Sent Someone Who Would Extol Or Disparage Them. But Now I Know That Trees Blossom In The Spring And Give Their Fruits In The Summer Without Any Desire For Accolades. And They Scatter Their Leaves Abroad In The Fall And Denude Themselves In The Winter Without Fear Of Reproof.

Joy And Sorrow Are Inseparable. . . Together They Come And When One Sits Alone With You . . Remember That The Other Is Asleep Upon Your Bed.

Mother: The Most Beautiful Word On The Lips Of Mankind.

Much Of Your Pain Is The Bitter Potion By Which The Physician Within You Heals Your Sick Self.

For That Which Is Boundless In You Abides In The Mansion Of The Sky, Whose Door Is The Morning Mist, And Whose Windows Are The Songs And The Silences Of Night.

The Truly Just Is He Who Feels Half Guilty Of Your Misdeeds.

Life Without Love Is Like A Tree Without Blossoms Or Fruit.

A Root Is A Flower That Disdains Fame.

Let Us Disperse From Our Aloofness And Serve The Weak Who Made Us Strong, And Cleanse The Country In Which We Live. Let Us Teach This Miserable Nation To Smile And Rejoice With Heaven's Bounty And Glory Of Life And Freedom.

Love Is Quivering Happiness.

You Talk When You Cease To Be At Peace With Your Thoughts; And When You Can No Longer Dwell In The Solitude Of Your Heart You Live In Your Lips, And Sound Is A Diversion And A Pastime. And In Much Of Your Talking, Thinking Is Half Murdered.

He Who Does Not See The Angels And Devils In The Beauty And Malice Of Life Will Be Far Removed From Knowledge, And His Spirit Will Be Empty Of Affection.

To Love Life Through Our Labor Is To Be Intimate With Life's Inmost Secrets.

I Prefer To Be A Dreamer Among The Humblest, With Visions To Be Realized, Than Lord Among Those Without Dreams And Desires.

Verily The Lust For Comfort Murders The Passion Of The Soul, And Then Walks Grinning In The Funeral.

Would That I Were A Dry Well, And That The People Tossed Stones Into Me, For That Would Be Easier Than To Be A Spring Of Flowing Water That The Thirsty Pass By, And From Which They Avoid Drinking.

Your Hearts Know In Silence The Secrets Of The Days And The Nights. But Your Ears Thirst For The Sound Of The Heart's Knowledge. You Would Know In Words That Which You Have Always Known In Thought. You Would Touch With Your Fingers The Naked Body Of The Dreams.

If You Are Poor, Shun Association With Him Who Measures Men With The Yardstick Of Riches.

These Things He Said In Words. But Much In His Heart Remained Unsaid. For He Himself Could Not Speak His Deeper Secret.

Cover Me With Soft Earth, And Let Each Handful Be Mixed With Seeds Ofjasmine, Lilies, And Myrtle; And When They Grow Above Me And Thrive On My Body's Element They Will Breathe The Fragrance Of My Heart Into Space.

Truth Is A Deep Kindness That Teaches Us To Be Content In Our Everyday Life And Share With The People The Same Happiness.

That Which Seems Most Feeble And Bewildered In You Is The Strongest And Most Determined. Is It Not Your Breath That Has Erected And Hardened The Structure Of Your Bones?

To Know The Pain Of Too Much Tenderness

Wisdom Stands At The Turn In The Road And Calls Upon Us Publicly, But We Consider It False And Despise Its Adherents.

I Love You When You Bow In Your Mosque, Kneel In Your Temple, Pray In Your Church. For You And I Are Sons Of One Religion, And It Is The Spirit.

We Wanderers, Ever Seeking The Lonelier Way, Begin No Day Where We Have Ended Another, And No Sunrise Finds Us Where Left By Sunset. Even While The Earth Sleeps We Travel. We Are The Seeds Of That Tenacious Plant, And It Is In Our Ripeness And Our Fullness Of Heart That We Are Given To The Wind To Be Scattered.

Love Is A Gracious Host To His Guests Though To The Unbidden His House Is A Mirage And A Mockery.

Love And Doubt Have Never Been On Speaking Terms.

I Would Tell You More Of Him, But How Shall I? When Love Becomes Vast Love Becomes Wordless. And When Memory Is Overladen It Seeks The Silent Deep.

Your Children Are Not Your Children. They Are The Sons And Daughters Of Life's Longing For Itself. They Came Through You But Not From You And Though They Are With You Yet They Belong Not To You.

But Memory Is An Autumn Leaf That Murmurs A While In The Wind And Then Is Heard No More.

If I Accept The Sunshine And Warmth, Then I Must Also Accept The Thunder And Lightning.

Your Hearts Know In Silence The Secrets Of The Days And The Nights.

When A Man's Hand Touches The Hand Of A Woman, They Both Touch The Heart Of Eternity.

And That Which Sings And Contemplates In You Is Still Dwelling Within The Bounds Of That First Moment Which Scattered The Stars Into Space.

For Truth And The Spirit Will Abide With The Morrow.

The Giving And Receiving Of Pleasure Is A Need And An Ecstasy.

To Understand The Heart And Mind Of A Person, Look Not At What He Has Already Achieved, But At What He Aspires To.

Your Children Are Not Your Children. They Are The Sons And Daughters Of Life's Longing For Itself. They Come Through You But Not From You, And Though They Are With You, Yet They Belong Not To You. You May Give Them Your Love, But Not Your Thoughts. For They Have Their Own Thoughts. You May House Their Bodies But Not Their Souls, For Their Souls Dwell In The House Of Tomorrow, Which You Cannot Visit, Not Even In Your Dreams. You May Strive To Be Like Them, But Seek Not To Make Them Like You. For Life Goes Not Backward, Nor Tarries With Yesterday.

In The Autumn I Gathered All My Sorrows And Buried Them In My Garden. And When April Returned And Spring Came To Wed The Earth, There Grew In My Garden Beautiful Flowers Unlike All Other Flowers. And My Neighbors Came To Behold Them, And They All Said To Me, "when Autumn Comes Again, At Seeding Time, Will You Not Give Us Of The Seeds Of These Flowers That We May Have Them In Our Gardens?"

You Would Know The Secret Of Death. But How Shall You Find It Unless You Seek It In The Heart Of Life.

Thinking Is Always The Stumbling Stone To Poetry.

A Man's True Wealth Is The Good He Does In The World.

The Snow And The Storm Destroy The Flower; But Its Seed They Cannot Kill.

For What Is It To Die But To Stand Naked In The Wind And To Melt Into The Sun? And When The Earth Shall Claim Your Limbs, Then Shall You Truly Dance.

To Barter And Lose Is Better Than Not To Go Forth.

He Was Gentle, Like A Man Mindful Of His Own Strength. In My Dreams I Beheld The Kings Of The Earth Standing In Awe In His Presence.

Perhaps Time’s Definition Of Coal Is The Diamond.

But If In Your Fear You Would Seek Only Love's Peace And Love's Pleasure, Then It Is Better For You That You Cover Your Nakedness And Pass Out Of Love's Threshing-floor, Into The Seasonless World Where You Shall Laugh, But Not All Of Your Laughter, And Weep, But Not All Of Your Tears.

Spiritual Awakening Is The Most Essential Thing In Man's Life, And It Is The Sole Purpose Of Being. Is Not Civilization, In All Its Tragic Forms, A Supreme Motive For Spiritual Awakening?

A Sense Of Humour Is A Sense Of Proportion.

He Who Does Not See The Kingdom Of Heaven In This Life Will Never See It In The Coming Life.

The Lust For Comfort, That Stealthy Thing That Enters The House A Guest, And Then Becomes A Host, And Then A Master.

You Would Know The Secret Of Death. But How Shall You Find It Unless You Seek It In The Heath Of Life? The Owl Whose Night-bound Eyes Are Blind Unto The Day Cannot Unveil The Mystery Of Light. If You Would Indeed Behold The Spirit Of Death, Open Your Heart Wide Unto The Body Of Life. For Life And Death Are One, Even As The River And Sea Are One. For What Is It To Die But To Stand Naked In The Wind And To Melt Into The Sun?

He Who Understands You Is Greater Kin To You Than Your Own Brother. For Even Your Own Kindred Neither Understand You Nor Know Your True Worth.

You Can Muffle The Drum, And You Can Loosen The Strings Of The Lyre, But Who Shall Command The Skylark Not To Sing?

The Best Of Man Is He Who Blushes When You Praise Him And Remains Silent When You Defame Him.

Each Thing That Exists Remains Forever, And That Very Existence Of Existence Is Proof Of Its Eternity. But Without That Realization, Which Is The Knowledge Of Perfect Being, Man Would Never Know Whether There Was Existence Or Non-existence. If Eternal Existence Is Altered, Then It Must Become More Beautiful; And If It Disappears, It Must Return With More Sublime Image; And If It Sleeps, It Must Dream Of A Better Awakening, For It Is Ever Greater Upon Its Rebirth.

The Truly Good Is He Who Is One With All Those Who Are Deemed Bad.

You Would Measure Time The Measureless And The Immeasurable. You Would Adjust Your Conduct And Even Direct The Course Of Your Spirit According To Hours And Seasons. Of Time You Would Make A Stream Upon Whose Bank You Would Sit And Watch Its Flowing.

All Can Hear, But Only The Sensitive Can Understand.

Advance, And Never Halt, For Advancing Is Perfection. Advance And Do Not Fear The Thorns In The Path, For They Draw Only Corrupt Blood.

The Power To Love Is God's Greatest Gift To Man, For It Never Will Be Taken From The Blessed One Who Loves.

Love Gives Naught But Itself And Takes Naught But From Itself.

Solitude Is A Silent Storm That Breaks Down All Our Dead Branches; Yet It Sends Our Living Roots Deeper Into The Living Heart Of The Living Earth.

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