Your Emotions Are The Slaves To Your

I Had Long Ago Learned That When You Are The Giant, Alien Visitor To A Remote And Foreign Culture It Is Sort Of Your Job To Become An Object Of Ridicule. It’s The Least You Can Do, Really, As A Polite Guest.

There's No Trouble In This World So Serious That It Can't Be Cured With A Hot Bath, A Glass Of Whiskey, And The Book Of Common Prayer.

You Have Now Reached Infatuation’s Final Destination—the Complete And Merciless Devaluation Of Self.

The Resting Place Of The Mind Is The Heart. The Only Thing The Mind Hears All Day Is Clanging Bells And Noise And Argument, And All It Wants Is Quietude. The Only Place The Mind Will Ever Find Peace Is Inside The Silence Of The Heart. That's Where You Need To Go.

If We Never Leave Our House Except To Drive To Work, Do We Need To Be Even Remotely Aware Of This Powerful, Humbling, Extraordinary And Eternal Life Force That Surges And Ebbs Around Us All The Time? Apparently Not. Because We Have Stopped Paying Attention.