The Thirst Of Soul Is Sweeter Than

You May Strive To Be Like Them But Seek Not To Make Them Like You. For Life Goes Not Backward Nor Tarries With Yesterday.

Let Your Bending In The Archer's Hand Be For Gladness, For Even As He Loves The Arrow That Flies, So He Loves Also The Bow That Is Stable.

Only When You Drink From The River Of Silence Shall You Indeed Sing. And When You Have Reached The Mountain Top, Then You Shall Begin To Climb. And When The Earth Shall Claim Your Limbs, Then Shall You Truly Dance.

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.

Defeat, My Defeat, My Deathless Courage, You And I Shall Laugh Together With The Storm, And Together We Shall Dig Graves For All That Die In Us, And We Shall Stand In The Sun With A Will, And We Shall Be Dangerous