The Soul Is The Weariest Part Of

There Is A Way To Master Silence Control Its Curves, Inhabit Its Dark Corners And Listen To The Hiss Of Time Outside

Since The World Began Has Any Man Ever Been Able To Know What Would Happen Tomorrow? The World Of Men Is Today. I'm Asking You To Open Your Heart Today. Tomorrow Belongs To Allah.

You Will Find Yourself Among People. There Is No Help For This Nor Should You Want It Otherwise. The Passages Where No One Waits Are Dark And Hard To Navigate. The Wet Walls Touch Your Shoulders On Each Side. When The Trees Were There I Cared That They Were There. And Now They Are Gone, Does It Matter? The Passages Where No One Waits Go On And Give No Promise Of An End. You Will Find Yourself Among People, Faces, Clothing, Teeth And Hair And Words, And Many Words When There Was Life, I Said That Life Was Wrong. What Do I Say Now? You Understand?

No One Can Ever Heap Enough Insults Upon Me To Suit My Taste. I Think We All Really Thrive On Hostility, Because It's The Most Intense Kind Of Massage The Ego Can Undergo. Other People's Indifference Is The Only Horror.

Because Neither She Nor Port Had Ever Lived A Life Of Any Kind Of Regularity, They Had Both Made The Fatal Error Of Coming Hazily To Regard Time As Non-existent. One Year Was Like Another Year. Eventually Everything Would Happen.