Death Has Nothing To Do With Going

Whoever Finds Love Beneath Hurt And Grief Disappears Into Emptiness With A Thousand New Disguises

I Am Part Of The Load Not Rightly Balanced . . .

Do You Think I Know What I'm Doing? That For One Breath Or Half-breath I Belong To Myself? As Much As A Pen Knows What It's Writing, Or The Ball Can Guess Where It's Going Next.

When I Run After What I Think I Want, My Days Are A Furnace Of Stress And Anxiety; If I Sit In My Own Place Of Patience, What I Need Flows To Me, And Without Pain. From This I Understand That What I Want Also Wants Me, Is Looking For Me And Attracting Me. There Is A Great Secret Here For Anyone Who Can Grasp It.

Patience Is The Key To Joy.