To Know The Pain Of Too Much

Our Worst Fault Is Our Preoccupation With The Faults Of Others.

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

You Are A Flower Crushed Beneath The Feet Of The Animal That Is Concealed In A Human Being. Take Comfort, In That You Are The Flower Crushed And Not The Foot That Has Crushed It.

The Snow And The Storm Destroy The Flower; But Its Seed They Cannot Kill.

Yet You Shall Not Deplore Having Known Blindness, Nor Regret Having Been Deaf. For In That Day You Shall Know The Hidden Purposes In All Things. And You Shall Bless Darkness As You Would Bless Light.