As You Start To Walk On The

No Mirror Ever Became Iron Again; No Bread Ever Became Wheat; No Ripened Grape Ever Became Sour Fruit. Mature Yourself And Be Secure From A Change For The Worse. Become The Light.

A Soul Which Is Not Clothed With The Inner Garment Of Love Should Be Ashamed Of Its Existence.

You’re A Song, A Wished-for Song.

Tear Off The Mask. Your Face Is Glorious

This Is What Love Does And Continues To Do. It Tastes Like Honey To Adults And Milk To Children.