The Biggest Thing In Today's Sorrow Is

The Mute Grain Turns To Love Songs When Swallowed By The Nightingale.

Your Joy Is Your Sorrow Unmasked. And The Same Well From Which Your Laughter Rises Was Oftentimes Filled With Your Tears. And How Else Can It Be? The Deeper That Sorrow Carves Into Your Being, The More Joy You Can Contain. Is Not The Cup That Holds Your Wine The Very Cup That Was Burned In The Potter's Oven? And Is Not The Lute That Soothes Your Spirit, The Very Wood That Was Hollowed With Knives?

When You Are Sorrowful, Look Again.

Is Not The Beautiful Moon, That Inspires Poets, The Same Moon Which Angers The Silence Of The Sea With A Terrible Roar?

I Prefer To Be A Dreamer Among The Humblest, With Visions To Be Realized, Than Lord Among Those Without Dreams And Desires.