Hate Is A Dead Thing. Who Of

Is Not The Beautiful Moon, That Inspires Poets, The Same Moon Which Angers The Silence Of The Sea With A Terrible Roar?

Much Of Your Pain Is Self-chosen.

Life Has Two Halves: One Patient And One Afire. Love Is The Fiery Half. Make Me, O Lord, Food For The Flames.

I Love You, My Brother, Whoever You Are - Whether You Worship In A Church, Kneel In Your Temple, Or Pray In Your Mosque. You And I Are Children Of One Faith, For The Diverse Paths Of Religion Are Fingers Of The Loving Hand Of The One Supreme Being, A Hand Extended To All, Offering Completeness Of Spirit To All, Eager To Receive All.

We Stood Up And Bade Each Other Farewell, But Love And Despair Stood Between Us Like Two Ghosts, One Stretching His Wings With His Fingers Over Our Throats, One Weeping And The Other Laughing Hideously. As I Took Selma's Hand And Put It To My Lips, She Came Close To Me And Placed A Kiss On My Forehead, Then Dropped On The Wooden Bench. She Shut Her Eyes And Whispered Softly, "oh, Lord God, Have Mercy On Me And Mend My Broken Wings!