Insight That Dawns Slowly Seems To Me

In Every Adult There Lurks A Child— An Eternal Child, Something That Is Always Becoming, Is Never Completed, And Calls For Unceasing Care, Attention, And Education. That Is The Part Of The Personality Which Wants To Develop And Become Whole.

Somewhere There Was Once A Flower, A Stone, A Crystal, A Queen, A King, A Palace, A Lover And His Beloved, And This Was Long Ago, On An Island Somewhere In The Ocean 5,000 Years Ago. . . . Such Is Love, The Mystic Flower Of The Soul. This Is The Center, The Self.

Sensation Tell Us A Thing Is. Thinking Tell Us What It Is This Thing Is. Feeling Tells Us What This Thing Is To Us.

Through Pride We Are Ever Deceiving Ourselves. But Deep Down Below The Surface Of The Average Conscience A Still, Small Voice Says To Us, Something Is Out Of Tune.

Even A Happy Life Cannot Be Without A Measure Of Darkness, And The Word Happy Would Lose Its Meaning If It Were Not Balanced By Sadness. It Is Far Better Take Things As They Come Along With Patience And Equanimity.