Work Is Love Made Visible.

People Of Orphalese, Beauty Is Life When Life Unveils Her Holy Face. But You Are Life And You Are The Veil. Beauty Is Eternity Gazing At Itself In A Mirror. But You Are Eternity And You Are The Mirror.

When You Are Sorrowful, Look Again.

Your Joy Is Your Sorrow Unmasked. And The Same Well From Which Your Laughter Rises Was Oftentimes Filled With Your Tears. And How Else Can It Be? The Deeper That Sorrow Carves Into Your Being, The More Joy You Can Contain. Is Not The Cup That Holds Your Wine The Very Cup That Was Burned In The Potter's Oven? And Is Not The Lute That Soothes Your Spirit, The Very Wood That Was Hollowed With Knives?

The Poet Is A Bird Of Strange Moods. He Descends From His Lofty Domain To Tarry Among Us, Singing; If We Do Not Honor Him He Will Unfold His Wings And Fly Back To His Dwelling Place.

In Every Aspect Of The Day Jesus Was Aware Of The Father. He Beheld Him In The Clouds And In The Shadows Of The Clouds That Pass Over The Earth.