Poverty Hides Itself In Thought Before It

Sayings Remain Meaningless Until They Are Embodied In Habits.

Tell Your Secret To The Wind, But Don't Blame It For Telling The Trees.

Your Body Is The Harp Of Your Soul And It Is Yours To Bring Forth Sweet Music From It Or Confused Sounds.

Yet The Timeless In You Is Aware Of Life's Timelessness, And Knows That Yesterday Is But Today's Memory And Tomorrow Is Today's Dream. And That That Which Sings And Contemplates In You Is Still Dwelling Within The Bounds Of That First Moment Which Scattered The Stars Into Space. Who Among You Does Not Feel That His Power To Love Is Boundless? And Yet Who Does Not Feel That Very Love, Though Boundless, Encompassed Within The Centre Of His Being, And Moving Not From Love Thought To Love Thought, Nor From Love Deeds To Other Love Deeds? And Is Not Time Even As Love Is, Undivided And Paceless?

For To Be Idle Is To Become A Stranger Unto The Seasons, And To Step Out Of Life’s Procession That Marches In Majesty And Proud Submission Towards The Infinite.