... We Die, Just As We Were

Let Us Thank God For Having Made Us This Gift Of Death, So That Life Is To Have Meaning; Of Night, That Day Is To Have Meaning; Silence, That Speech Is To Have Meaning; Illness, That Health Is To Have Meaning; War, That Peace Is To Have Meaning. Let Us Give Thanks To Him For Having Given Us Weariness And Pain, So That Rest And Joy Are To Have Meaning. Let Us Give Thanks To Him, Whose Wisdom Is Infinite.

Nothing Is Born Of Nothing, Least Of All Knowledge, Modernity, Or Enlightened Thought; Progress Is Made In Tiny Surges, In Successive Laps, Like An Endless Relay Race. But There Are Links Without Which Nothing Would Be Passed On, And For That Reason, They Deserve The Gratitude Of All Who Benefited From Them.

I Come From No Country, From No City, No Tribe. I Am The Son Of The Road... All Tongues And All Prayers Belong To Me. But I Belong To None Of Them.

Our Ancestors Derived Less From Life Than We Do, But They Also Expected Much Less And Were Less Intent On Controlling The Future. We Are Of The Arrogant Generations Who Believe A Lasting Happiness Was Promised To Us At Birth. Promised? By Whom?

During My Youth, The Idea Of Moving From Lebanon Was Unthinkable. Then I Began To Realise I Might Have To Go, Like My Grandfather, Uncles And Others Who Left For America, Egypt, Australia, Cuba.