Love Descends Upon Our Souls By The

Where Is The Justice Of Political Power If It Executes The Murderer And Jails The Plunderer, And Then Itself Marches Upon Neighboring Lands, Killing Thousands And Pillaging The Very Hills?

Those To Whom Worshiping Is A Window, To Open But Also To Shut, Have Not Yet Visited The House Of Their Souls Whose Windows Are Open From Dawn To Dawn.

When You Reach The Heart Of Life You Shall Find Beauty In All Things, Even In The Eyes That Are Blind To Beauty.

The Eye Of A Human Being Is A Microscope, Which Makes The World Seem Bigger Than It Really Is.

Trees Are Poems That The Earth Writes Upon The Sky.