All Men Love You For Themselves. I

Doubt Is A Pain Too Lonely To Know That Faith Is His Twin Brother.

But You Who Walk Facing The Sun, What Images Drawn On The Earth Can Hold You?

We Shall Never Understand One Another Until We Reduce The Language To Seven Words.

When I Planted My Pain In The Field Of Patience It Bore Fruit Of Happiness.

These Things He Said In Words. But Much In His Heart Remained Unsaid. For He Himself Could Not Speak His Deeper Secret.