Enthusiasm Is A Volcano On Whose Top

You Are Good When You Are One With Yourself. Yet When You Are Not One With Yourself You Are Not Evil. For A Divided House Is Not A Den Of Thieves; It Is Only A Divided House. And A Ship Without Rudder May Wander Aimlessly Among Perilous Isles Yet Sink Not To The Bottom.

I Came Here To Be For All And With All, And What I Do Today In My Solitude Will Be Echoed Tomorrow By The Multitude. What I Say Now With One Heart Will Be Said Tomorrow By Thousands Of Hearts.

You Would Know The Secret Of Death. But How Shall You Find It Unless You Seek It In The Heath Of Life? The Owl Whose Night-bound Eyes Are Blind Unto The Day Cannot Unveil The Mystery Of Light. If You Would Indeed Behold The Spirit Of Death, Open Your Heart Wide Unto The Body Of Life. For Life And Death Are One, Even As The River And Sea Are One. For What Is It To Die But To Stand Naked In The Wind And To Melt Into The Sun?

Much Of Your Pain Is Self-chosen. It Is The Bitter Potion By Which The Physician Within You Heals Your Sick Self. Therefore Trust The Physician, And Drink His Remedy In Silence And Tranquility: For His Hand, Though Heavy And Hard, Is Guided By The Tender Hand Of The Unseen, And The Cup He Brings, Though It Burn Your Lips, Has Been Fashioned Of The Clay Which The Potter Has Moistened With His Own Sacred Tears.

And Before My Soul Took Me To Task I Was Hard Of Hearing; I Heard Only Tumult And Uproar. But Now I Am All Ears Listening To The Silence And Its Choirs Singing The Hymns Of Time, Intoning The Praises Of The Firmament, Revealing The Secrets Of The Invisible.