Forgetfulness Is A Form Of Freedom.

The Fool Sees Naught But Folly; And The Madman Only Madness. Yesterday I Asked A Foolish Man To Count The Fools Among Us. He Laughed And Said, "this Is Too Hard A Thing To Do, And It Will Take Too Long. Were It Not Better To Count Only The Wise?"

Your Children Are Not Your Children. They Are The Sons And Daughters Of Life's Longing For Itself. They Come Through You But Not From You, And Though They Are With You, Yet They Belong Not To You. 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. You May Strive To Be Like Them, But Seek Not To Make Them Like You. For Life Goes Not Backward, Nor Tarries With Yesterday.

Beauty Is Eternity Gazing At Itself In A Mirror.

And Is Not Time Even As Love Is, Undivided And Paceless?

You, The Strong, Have I Loved, Though The Marks Of Your Iron Hoofs Are Yet Upon My Flesh.