Judge The Moth By The Beauty Of

Prayer Clears The Mist And Brings Back Peace To The Soul . . .

The Work Of Magic Is This, That It Breathes And At Every Breath Transforms Realities.

Half-heartedness Doesn't Reach Into Majesty. You Set Out To Find God, But Then You Keep Stopping For Long Periods At Meanspirited Roadhouses.

People Are Distracted By Objects Of Desire, And Afterwards Repent Of The Lust They've Indulged, Because They Have Indulged With A Phantom And Are Left Even Farther From Reality Than Before. Your Desire For The Illusory Is A Wing, By Means Of Which A Seeker Might Ascend To Reality. When You Have Indulged A Lust, Your Wing Drops Off; You Become Lame And That Fantasy Flees. Preserve The Wing And Don't Indulge Such Lust, So That The Wing Of Desire May Bear You To Paradise. People Fancy They Are Enjoying Themselves, But They Are Really Tearing Out Their Wings For The Sake Of An Illusion.

The Feelings Trembled And Flapped In His Chest Like A Bird Newly Put In A Cage.