There Is A Desire Deep Within The

Your House Shall Be Not An Anchor But A Mast It Shall Not Be A Glistening Film That Covers A Wound, But An Eyelid That Guards The Eye.

Work Is Love Made Visible. And If You Cannot Work With Love But Only With Distaste, It Is Better That You Should Leave Your Work And Sit At The Gate Of The Temple And Take Alms Of Those Who Work With Joy.

My Friends: Music Is The Language Of Spirits. Its Melody Is Like The Frolicsome Breeze That Makes The Strings Quiver With Love. When The Gentle Fingers Of Music Knock At The Door Of Our Feelings, They Awaken Memories That Have Long Lain Hidden In The Depths Of The Past. The Sad Strains Of Music Bring Us Mournful Recollections; And Her Quiet Strains Bring Us Joyful Memories. The Sound Of Strings Makes Us Weep At The Departure Of A Dear One, Or Makes Us Smile At The Peace God Has Bestowed Upon Us.

When You Are Sorrowful Look Again In Your Heart, And You Shall See That In Truth You Are Weeping For That Which Has Been Your Delight. Some Of You Say, "joy Is Greater Than Sorrow," And Others Say, "nay, Sorrow Is The Greater." But I Say Unto You, They Are Inseparable. Together They Come, And When One Sits Alone With You At Your Board, Remember That The Other Is Asleep Upon Your Bed. Verily You Are Suspended Like Scales Between Your Sorrow And Your Joy.

My God, My Aim And My Fulfillment; I Am Thy Yesterday And Thou Are My Tomorrow. I Am They Root In The Earth And Thou Art My Flower In The Sky, And Together We Grow Before The Face Of The Sun.