Life Unfolds Itself In Mysteries Ways.

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.

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

Poverty Hides Itself In Thought Before It Surrenders To Purses.

Yet The Timeless In You Is Aware Of Life's Timelessness, And Knows That Yesterday Is But Today's Memory And Tomorrow Is Today's Dream. And That That Which Sings And Contemplates In You Is Still Dwelling Within The Bounds Of That First Moment Which Scattered The Stars Into Space. Who Among You Does Not Feel That His Power To Love Is Boundless? And Yet Who Does Not Feel That Very Love, Though Boundless, Encompassed Within The Centre Of His Being, And Moving Not From Love Thought To Love Thought, Nor From Love Deeds To Other Love Deeds? And Is Not Time Even As Love Is, Undivided And Paceless?

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.