Much Of Your Pain Is Self-chosen.

I Am One Of Those Who Believe That Spiritual Progress Is A Rule Of Human Life, But The Approach To Perfection Is Slow And Painful. If A Woman Elevates Herself In One Respect And Is Retarded In Another, It Is Because The Rough Trail That Leads To The Mountain Peak Is Not Free Of Ambushes Of Thieves And Lairs Of Wolves.

And If You Would Know God, Be Not Therefore A Solver Of Riddles. Rather Look About You And You Shall See Him Playing With Your Children.

But You Who Walk Facing The Sun, What Images Drawn On The Earth Can Hold You? You Who Travel With The Wind, What Weathervane Shall Direct Your Course? What Man's Law Shall Bind You If You Break Your Yoke But Upon No Man's Prison Door? What Laws Shall You Fear If You Dance But Stumble Against No Man's Iron Chains? And Who Is He That Shall Bring You To Judgment If You Tear Off Your Garment Yet Leave It In No Man's Path? People Of Orphalese, You Can Muffle The Drum, And You Can Loosen The Strings Of The Lyre, But Who Shall Command The Skylark Not To Sing?

Your Clothes Conceal Much Of Your Beauty, Yet They Hide Not The Unbeautiful. And Though You Seek In Garments The Freedom Of Privacy, You May Find In Them A Harness And A Chain. Would That You Could Meet The Sun And The Wind With More Of Your Body And Less Of Your Raiment.

The Voice Of Life In Me Cannot Reach The Ear Of Life In You; But Let Us Talk That We May Not Feel Lonely.