I Never Discuss Discussions.

To Preserve The Silence Within--amid All The Noise. To Remain Open And Quiet, A Moist Humus In The Fertile Darkness Where The Rain Falls And The Grain Ripens--no Matter How Many Tramp Across The Parade Ground In Whirling Dust Under An Arid Sky.

Praise Those Of Your Critics For Whom Nothing Is Up To Standard.

So Rests The Sky Against The Earth. The Dark Still Tarn In The Lap Of The Forest. As A Husband Embraces His Wife's Body In Faithful Tenderness, So The Bare Ground And Trees Are Embraced By The Still, High, Light Of The Morning. I Feel An Ache Of Longing To Share In This Embrace, To Be United And Absorbed. A Longing Like Carnal Desire, But Directed Towards Earth, Water, Sky, And Returned By The Whispers Of The Trees, The Fragrance Of The Soil, The Caresses Of The Wind, The Embrace Of Water And Light. Content? No, No, No - But Refreshed, Rested - While Waiting.

Forgiving Is Forgetting, In Spite Of Remembering.

Peacekeeping Is Not A Job For Soldiers, But Only Soldiers Can Do It.