Hatred Is A Heavy Burden. It Sinks

When She Sees The Leaves Fall, They Raise No Other Idea In Her Mind Than That Winter Is Approaching.

Yet Through Delivery Orators Succeed, I Feel That I Am Far Behind Indeed.

Does Not Man Lack The Force At The Very Point Where He Needs It Most? And When He Soars Upward In Joy, Or Sinks Down In Suffering, Is Not Checked In Both, Is He Not Returned Again To The Dull, Cold Sphere Of Awareness, Just When He Was Longing To Lose Himself In The Fullness Of The Infinite.

Superstition Is Part Of The Poetry Of Life.

Create, Artist, Do Not Talk.