All Men Love You For Themselves. I

Like Sheaves Of Corn It Gathers You Unto Itself. It Threshes You To Make You Naked. It Sifts You To Free You From Your Husks. It Grinds You To Whiteness. It Kneads You Until You Are Pliant. And Then It Assigns You To Its Sacred Fire, That You May Become Sacred Bread For God's Sacred Feast. All These Things Shall Love Do Unto You That You May Know The Secrets Of Your Heart, And In That Knowledge Become A Fragment Of Life's Heart.

Follow Your Heart. Your Heart Is The Right Guide In Everything Big. Mine Is So Limited. What You Want To Do Is Determined By That Divine Element That Is In Each Of Us.

The Teacher Gives Not Of His Wisdom, But Rather Of His Faith And Lovingness.

The Tears That You Spill, The Sorrowful, Are Sweeter Than The Laughter Of Snobs And The Guffaws Of Scoffers.

If In The Twilight Of Memory We Should Meet Once More,we Shall Speak Again Together And You Shall Sing To Me A Deeper Song. And If Our Hands Should Meet In Another Dream We Shall Build Another Tower In The Sky.