He Who Makes A Paradise Of His

My Truths Do Not Last Long In Me. Not As Long As Those That Are Not Mine.

In A Full Heart There Is Room For Everything, And In An Empty Heart There Is Room For Nothing.

You Do Not See The River Of Mourning Because It Lacks One Tear Of Your Own.

Everything That I Bear Within Me Bound, Is To Be Found Somewhere Else Free.

All The Suns Labor To Kindle Your Flame And A Microbe Puts It Out.