Life Is The Path You Beat While

My Philosophy Is Fundamentally Sad, But I’m Not A Sad Man, And I Don’t Believe I Sadden Anyone Else. In Other Words, The Fact That I Don’t Put My Philosophy Into Practice Saves Me From Its Evil Spell, Or, Rather, My Faith In The Human Race Is Stronger Then My Intellectual Analysis Of It; There Lies The Fountain Of Youth In Which My Heart Is Continually Bathing.

The Wind, One Brilliant Day, Called To My Soul With An Odor Of Jasmine. "in Return For The Odor Of My Jasmine, I'd Like All The Odor Of Your Roses." "i Have No Roses; All The Flowers In My Garden Are Dead." "well Then, I'll Take The Withered Petals And The Yellow Leaves And The Waters Of The Fountain." The Wind Left. And I Wept. And I Said To Myself: "what Have You Done With The Garden That Was Entrusted To You?

My Soul Is Not Asleep. It Is Awake, Wide Awake. It Neither Sleeps Nor Dreams, But Watches, Its Eyes Wide Open Far-off Things, And Listens At The Shores Of The Great Silence.

There Is No Way; We Make The Road By Walking It.

What Have You Done With The Garden That Was Entrusted To You?