Living Is Being Born Slowly. It Would

Vain Is The Hope Of Finding Pleasure In That Which One Has Hitherto Disdained; As When The Warrior Hopes To Find Pleasure In The Joys Of The Sedentaries.

The First Stars Tremble As If Shimmering In Green Water. Hours Must Pass Before Their Glimmer Hardens Into The Frozen Glitter Of Diamonds. I Shall Have A Long Wait Before I Witness The Soundless Frolic Of The Shooting Stars. In The Profound Darkness Of Certain Nights I Have Seen The Sky Streaked With So Many Trailing Sparks That It Seemed To Me A Great Gale Must Be Blowing Through The Outer Heavens.

How Is It Possible For One To Own The Stars?" "to Whom Do They Belong?" The Businessman Retorted, Peevishly. "i Don't Know. To Nobody.

For True Love Is Inexhaustible; The More You Give, The More You Have. And If You Go To Draw At The True Fountainhead, The More Water You Draw, The More Abundant Is Its Flow.

The One Thing That Matters Is The Effort. It Continues, Whereas The End To Be Attained Is But An Illusion Of The Climber, As He Fares On And On From Crest To Crest; And Once The Goal Is Reached It Has No Meaning.