Every Individual Is A Meeting Ground For

Life Is Like A Fire. Flames Which The Passer-by Forgets. Ashes Which The Wind Scatters. A Man Lived.

God, She Was Beautiful - My First Image Of The Orient - A Woman Such As Only The Desert Poet Knew How To Praise: Her Face Was The Sun, Her Hair The Protecting Shadow, Her Eyes Fountains Of Cool Water, Her Body The Most Slender Of Palm-trees And Her Smile A Mirage.

How Do I Pray? I Study A Rose, I Count The Stars, I Marvel At The Beauty Of Creation And How Perfectly Ordered It Is, At Man, The Most Beautiful Work Of The Creator, His Brain Thirsting For Knowledge, His Heart For Love, And His Senses, All His Senses Alert Or Gratified.

I Am The Son Of The Road , My Country Is A Caravan And My Life Is The Most Unexpected Of Voyages. I Belong To Earth And To The God And It Is To Them That I Will One Day Soon Return

You Can't Say History Teaches Us This Or That; It Gives Us More Questions Than Answers, And Many Answers To Every Question.