Love Gives Naught But Itself And Takes

Make Me, Oh God, The Prey Of The Lion, Ere You Make The Rabbit My Prey

Love Is A Gracious Host To His Guests Though To The Unbidden His House Is A Mirage And A Mockery.

When We Oppose The Hidden Conscience, It Does Us Hurt. When We Betray It, It Judges Us.

Enthusiasm Is A Volcano On Whose Top Never Grows The Grass Of Hesitation.

And Now You Ask In Your Heart, ‘how Shall We Distinguish That Which Is Good In Pleasure From That Which Is Not Good?’ Go To Your Fields And Your Gardens, And You Shall Learn That It Is The Pleasure Of The Bee To Gather Honey Of The Flower, But It Is Also The Pleasure Of The Flower To Yield Its Honey To The Bee. For To The Bee A Flower Is A Fountain Of Life, And To The Flower A Bee Is A Messenger Of Love, And To Both, Bee And Flower, The Giving And The Receiving Of Pleasure Is A Need And An Ecstasy. * People Of Orphalese, Be In Your Pleasures Like The Flowers And The Bees.