All Things In This Vast Universe Exist

Happiness Is A Myth We Seek, If Manifested Surely Irks; Like River Speeding To The Plain, On Its Arrival Slows And Murks. For Man Is Happy Only In His Aspiration To The Heights; When He Attains His Goal, He Cools And Longs For Other Distant Flights.

Love Is The Only Flower That Grows And Blossoms Without The Aid Of The Seasons

Many Are The Places Of Worship, But Few Indeed Are Those Who Worship In Spirit And In Truth.

Am I Less Man Because I Believe In A Greater Man?

The "i" In Me, My Friend, Dwells In The House Of Silence, And Therein It Shall Remain For Ever More, Unperceived, Unapproachable.