Your Fear Of Death Is But The

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.

Art Is A Step From What Is Obvious And Well-known Toward What Is Arcane And Concealed.

Happiness Is A Myth We Seek, If Manifested Surely Irks; Like River Speeding To The Plain, On Its Arrival Slows And Murks. For Man Is Happy Only In His Aspiration To The Heights; When He Attains His Goal, He Cools And Longs For Other Distant Flights.

My House Says To Me, "do Not Leave Me, For Here Dwells Your Past." And The Road Says To Me, "come And Follow Me, For I Am Your Future." And I Say To Both My House And The Road, "i Have No Past, Nor Have I A Future. If I Stay Here, There Is A Going In My Staying; And If I Go There Is A Staying In My Going. Only Love And Death Change All Things."

I Am Bored With Gabbers And Their Gab; My Soul Abhors Them. . . . Is There Any Place Where There Is No Traffic In Empty Talk? Is There On This Earth One Who Does Not Worship Himself Talking?