He Who Passes Not His Days In

Yet The Timeless In You Is Aware Of Life's Timelessness, And Knows That Yesterday Is But Today's Memory And Tomorrow Is Today's Dream. And That That Which Sings And Contemplates In You Is Still Dwelling Within The Bounds Of That First Moment Which Scattered The Stars Into Space. 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 Centre Of His Being, And Moving Not From Love Thought To Love Thought, Nor From Love Deeds To Other Love Deeds? And Is Not Time Even As Love Is, Undivided And Paceless?

You Have Been Told That, Even Like A Chain, You Are As Weak As Your Weakest Link. This Is But Half The Truth. You Are Also As Strong As Your Strongest Link. To Measure You By Your Smallest Deed Is To Reckon The Power Of Ocean By The Frailty Of Its Foam. To Judge You By Your Failures Is To Cast Blame Upon The Seasons For Their Inconstancy.

The Subtlest Beauties In Our Life Are Unseen And Unheard.

Is Not The Cup That Holds Your Wine The Very Cup That Was Burned In The Potter’s Oven?

Hell Is Not In Torture; Hell Is In An Empty Heart.