Perhaps A Great Love Is Never Returned.

Like Wind-- In It, With It, Of It. Of It Just Like A Sail, So Light And Strong That, Even When It Is Bent Flat, It Gathers All The Power Of The Wind Without Hampering Its Course. Like Light-- In Light, Lit Through By Light, Transformed Into Light. Like The Lens Which Disappears In The Light It Focuses. Like Wind. Like Light. Just This--on These Expanses, On These Heights.

Like The Bee, We Distill Poison From Honey For Our Self-defense--what Happens To The Bee If It Uses Its Sting Is Well Known.

It Was When Lucifer First Congratulated Himself Upon His Angelic Behavior That He Became The Tool Of Evil.

At Some Moment I Did Answer "yes" To Someone Or Something. And From That Hour On I Was Certain That Existence Is Meaningful.

In A Dream I Walked With God Through The Deep Places Of Creation; Past Walls That Receded And Gates That Opened Through Hall After Hall Of Silence, Darkness And Refreshment--the Dwelling Place Of Souls Acquainted With Light And Warmth--until, Around Me, Was An Infinity Into Which We All Flowed Together And Lived Anew, Like The Rings Made By Raindrops Falling Upon Wide Expanses Of Calm Dark Waters.