Long Were The Days Of Pain I

The Silence Of The Envious Is Too Noisy.

Keep Me Away From The Wisdom Which Does Not Cry, The Philosophy Which Does Not Laugh And The Greatness Which Does Not Bow Before Children.

Joy And Sorrow Are Inseparable. . . Together They Come And When One Sits Alone With You . . Remember That The Other Is Asleep Upon Your Bed.

A Look Which Reveals Inward Stress Adds More Beauty To The Face, No Matter How Much Tragedy And Pain It Bespeaks; But The Face Which, In Silence, Does Not Announce Hidden Mysteries Is Not Beautiful, Regardless Of The Symmetry Of Its Features.

You May Give Them Your Love But Not Your Thoughts, For They Have Their Own Thoughts. You May House Their Bodies But Not Their Souls, For Their Souls Dwell In The House Of Tomorrow, Which You Cannot Visit, Not Even In Your Dreams.