The Cloak Of The Past Is Cut

The Choice You Make, Between Hating And Forgiving, Can Become The Story Of Your Life.

It's Forgiveness That Makes Us What We Are. Without Forgiveness, Our Species Would've Annihilated Itself In Endless Retributions. Without Forgiveness, There Would Be No History. Without That Hope, There Would Be No Art, For Every Work Of Art Is In Some Way An Act Of Forgiveness. Without That Dream, There Would Be No Love, For Every Act Of Love Is In Some Way A Promise To Forgive. We Live On Because We Can Love, And We Love Because We Can Forgive.

A Wise Man Once Told Me- He’s A Muslim By The Way- That He Has More In Common With A Jew Than He Does A Fanatic Of His Own Religion. He Has More In Common With A Rational, Reasonable-minded Christian Or A Buddhist Or Hindu Than He Does With A Fanatic Of His Own Religion. In Fact, He Has More In Common With A Ration, Reasonable-minded Atheist Than He Does With A Fanatic Of His Own Religion

The Touch Was Exactly What The Touch Of A Lover's Hand Should Be: Familiar, Yet Exciting As A Whispered Promise. I Felt An Almost Irresistible Urge To Take Her Hand And Place It Flat Against My Chest, Near My Heart. Maybe I Should've Done It. I Know Now That She Would've Laughed, If I'd Done It, And She Would've Liked Me For It. But Strangers That We Were Then, We Stood For Five Long Seconds And Held The Stare, While All The Parallel Worlds, All The Parallel Lives That Might've Been, And Never Would Be, Whirled Around Us.

The Man Grinned Back At Me With That Perfect Sincerity We Fear And Call Simple-minded.