Wit Is Often A Mask. If You

Your Children Are Not Your Children. They Are The Sons And Daughters Of Life's Longing For Itself. They Come Through You But Not From You, And Though They Are With You, Yet They Belong Not To You. You May Give Them Your Love, But Not Your Thoughts. For They Have Their Own Thoughts. You May House Their Bodies But Not Their Souls, For Their Souls Dwell In The House Of Tomorrow, Which You Cannot Visit, Not Even In Your Dreams. You May Strive To Be Like Them, But Seek Not To Make Them Like You. For Life Goes Not Backward, Nor Tarries With Yesterday.

Much Of Your Pain Is Self-chosen. It Is The Bitter Potion By Which The Physician Within You Heals Your Sick Self. Therefore Trust The Physician, And Drink His Remedy In Silence And Tranquility: For His Hand, Though Heavy And Hard, Is Guided By The Tender Hand Of The Unseen, And The Cup He Brings, Though It Burn Your Lips, Has Been Fashioned Of The Clay Which The Potter Has Moistened With His Own Sacred Tears.

Then A Lawyer Said, But What Of Our Laws, Master? And He Answered: 'you Delight In Laying Down Laws. Yet You Delight More In Breaking Them.

If You Cannot Work With Love But Only With Distaste, It Is Better That You Should Leave Your Work.

A Truly Religious Man Does Not Embrace A Religion; And He Who Embraces One Has No Religion.