All Our Words Are But Crumbs That

The Silence Of The Envious Is Too Noisy.

We Are Limited, Not By Our Abilities, But By Our Vision.

I Love You When You Bow In Your Mosque, Kneel In Your Temple, Pray In Your Church. For You And I Are Sons Of One Religion, And It Is The Spirit.

My Loneliness Was Born When Men Praised My Talkative Faults And Blamed My Silent Virtues.

For In Truth It Is Life That Gives Unto Life-while You, Who Deem Yourself A Giver, Are But A Witness.