And How Shall You Punish Those Whose

You May Chain My Hands, You May Shackle My Feet; You May Even Throw Me Into A Dark Prison; But You Shall Not Enslave My Thinking, Because It Is Free!

Every Man Is Two Men; One Is Awake In The Darkness, The Other Asleep In The Light.

The Obvious Is That Which Is Never Seen Until Someone Expresses It Simply.

You Can Muffle The Drum, And You Can Loosen The Strings Of The Lyre, But Who Shall Command The Skylark Not To Sing?

A Look Which Reveals Inward Stress Adds More Beauty To The Face, No Matter How Much Tragedy And Pain It Bespeaks; But The Face Which, In Silence, Does Not Announce Hidden Mysteries Is Not Beautiful, Regardless Of The Symmetry Of Its Features.