Trees Are Poems That The Earth Writes

Much Of Your Pain Is The Bitter Potion By Which The Physician Within You Heals Your Sick Self.

I Am One Of Those Who Believe That Spiritual Progress Is A Rule Of Human Life, But The Approach To Perfection Is Slow And Painful. If A Woman Elevates Herself In One Respect And Is Retarded In Another, It Is Because The Rough Trail That Leads To The Mountain Peak Is Not Free Of Ambushes Of Thieves And Lairs Of Wolves.

For The Breath Of Life Is In The Sunlight And The Hand Of Life Is In The Wind.

I Learnt Silence From The Talkative

When You Look Closely People Are So Strange & So Complicated That They're Actually Beautiful.