He Who Has Not Looked On Sorrow

When I Planted My Pain In The Field Of Patience It Bore Fruit Of Happiness.

Art Arises When The Secret Vision Of The Artist And The Manifestation Of Nature Agree To Find New Shapes.

Music Is The Language Of The Spirit. It Opens The Secret Of Life Bringing Peace, Abolishing Strife.

I Am One Of Those Who Believe That Spiritual Progress Is A Rule Of Human Life, But The Approach To Perfection Is Slow And Painful. If A Woman Elevates Herself In One Respect And Is Retarded In Another, It Is Because The Rough Trail That Leads To The Mountain Peak Is Not Free Of Ambushes Of Thieves And Lairs Of Wolves.

He Who Does Not Prefer Exile To Slavery Is Not Free By Any Measure Of Freedom, Truth And Duty.