He Who Does Not Prefer Exile To

The Sorrowful Spirit Finds Relaxation In Solitude. It Abhors People, As A Wounded Deer Deserts The Herd And Lives In A Cave Until It Is Healed Or Dead.

...unless The Exchange Be In Love And Kindly Justice, It Will But Lead Some To Greed And Others To Hunger.

Art Is A Step From What Is Obvious And Well-known Toward What Is Arcane And Concealed.

Spring Is Beautiful Everywhere, But It Is More Than Beautiful In Lebanon. Spring Is The Spirit Of An Unknown God Speeding Through The World, Which, As It Reaches Lebanon, Pauses, Because Now It Is As At Home With The Souls Of The Prophets And Kings Hovering Over The Land, Chanting With The Brooks Of Judea, The Eternal Psalms Of Solomon, Renewing With The Cedars Of Lebanon Memories Of An Ancient Glory.

For The Sight Of The Angry Weather Saddens My Soul And The Sight Of The Town, Sitting Like A Bereaved Mother Beneath Layers Of Ice, Oppresses My Heart.