As The Strings Of A Lute Are

Each Thing That Exists Remains Forever, And That Very Existence Of Existence Is Proof Of Its Eternity. But Without That Realization, Which Is The Knowledge Of Perfect Being, Man Would Never Know Whether There Was Existence Or Non-existence. If Eternal Existence Is Altered, Then It Must Become More Beautiful; And If It Disappears, It Must Return With More Sublime Image; And If It Sleeps, It Must Dream Of A Better Awakening, For It Is Ever Greater Upon Its Rebirth.

Your Hearts Know In Silence The Secrets Of The Days And The Nights. But Your Ears Thirst For The Sound Of The Heart's Knowledge. You Would Know In Words That Which You Have Always Known In Thought. You Would Touch With Your Fingers The Naked Body Of The Dreams.

Let Your Home Be You Mast And Not Your Anchor.

And Then To Sleep With A Prayer For The Beloved In Your Heart And A Song Of Praise Upon Your Lips.

Who Among You Does Not Feel That His Power To Love Is Boundless? And Yet Who Does Not Feel That Very Love, Though Boundless, Encompassed Within The Center Of His Being, And Moving Not From Love Thought To Love Thought, Nor From Love Deeds To Other Love Deeds?