I Wash My Hands Of Those Who

I Have Learned Silence From The Talkative, Toleration From The Intolerant, And Kindness From The Unkind; Yet, Strange, I Am Ungrateful To Those Teachers.

In The Autumn I Gathered All My Sorrows And Buried Them In My Garden. And When April Returned And Spring Came To Wed The Earth, There Grew In My Garden Beautiful Flowers Unlike All Other Flowers. And My Neighbors Came To Behold Them, And They All Said To Me, "when Autumn Comes Again, At Seeding Time, Will You Not Give Us Of The Seeds Of These Flowers That We May Have Them In Our Gardens?"

If My Survival Caused Another To Perish, Then Death Would Be Sweeter And More Beloved.

Strange, The Desire For Certain Pleasures Is A Part Of My Pain.

Let Your Home Be You Mast And Not Your Anchor.