Is Not The Beautiful Moon, That Inspires

But You Who Walk Facing The Sun, What Images Drawn On The Earth Can Hold You? You Who Travel With The Wind, What Weathervane Shall Direct Your Course? What Man's Law Shall Bind You If You Break Your Yoke But Upon No Man's Prison Door? What Laws Shall You Fear If You Dance But Stumble Against No Man's Iron Chains? And Who Is He That Shall Bring You To Judgment If You Tear Off Your Garment Yet Leave It In No Man's Path? People Of Orphalese, You Can Muffle The Drum, And You Can Loosen The Strings Of The Lyre, But Who Shall Command The Skylark Not To Sing?

Saying This, He Turned His Head Toward The Window As If He Were Trying To Solve The Problems Of Human Existence By Concentrating On The Beauty Of The Universe.

Why Dispute What We Shall Be, When We Know Not Even What We Are.

Your Daily Life Is Your Temple And Your Religion. When You Enter Into It Take With You Your All.

We Wanderers, Ever Seeking The Lonelier Way, Begin No Day Where We Have Ended Another Day; And No Sunrise Finds Us Where Sunset Left Us.