A Root Is A Flower That Disdains

Your Joy Is Your Sorrow Unmasked. And The Same Well From Which Your Laughter Rises Was Oftentimes Filled With Your Tears. And How Else Can It Be? The Deeper That Sorrow Carves Into Your Being, The More Joy You Can Contain. Is Not The Cup That Holds Your Wine The Very Cup That Was Burned In The Potter's Oven? And Is Not The Lute That Soothes Your Spirit, The Very Wood That Was Hollowed With Knives?

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.

Sadness Is But A Wall Between Two Gardens.

Behind The Veil Of Each Night, There Is A Smilling Dawn.

They Have Exiled Me Now From Their Society And I Am Pleased, Because Humanity Does Not Exile Except The One Whose Noble Spirit Rebels Against Despotism And Oppression. He Who Does Not Prefer Exile To Slavery Is Not Free By Any Measure Of Freedom