In Battling Evil, Excess Is Good; For

My Soul Gave Me Good Counsel, Teaching Me Never To Delight In Praise Or To Be Distressed By Reproach. Before My Soul Taught Me, I Doubted The Value Of My Accomplishments Until The Passing Days Sent Someone Who Would Extol Or Disparage Them. But Now I Know That Trees Blossom In The Spring And Give Their Fruits In The Summer Without Any Desire For Accolades. And They Scatter Their Leaves Abroad In The Fall And Denude Themselves In The Winter Without Fear Of Reproof.

When You Are Sorrowful Look Again In Your Heart, And You Shall See That In Truth You Are Weeping For That Which Has Been Your Delight. Some Of You Say, "joy Is Greater Than Sorrow," And Others Say, "nay, Sorrow Is The Greater." But I Say Unto You, They Are Inseparable. Together They Come, And When One Sits Alone With You At Your Board, Remember That The Other Is Asleep Upon Your Bed. Verily You Are Suspended Like Scales Between Your Sorrow And Your Joy.

Your Body Is The Harp Of The Soul.

You Would Measure Time The Measureless And The Immeasurable. You Would Adjust Your Conduct And Even Direct The Course Of Your Spirit According To Hours And Seasons. Of Time You Would Make A Stream Upon Whose Bank You Would Sit And Watch Its Flowing.

But You Who Walk Facing The Sun, What Images Drawn On The Earth Can Hold You?