Have You Not Heard Of

Reason Is Not Like The Goods Sold In The Market Places--the More Plentiful They Are, The Less They Are Worth. Reason's Worth Waxes With Her Abundance. But Were She Sold In The Market, It Is Only The Wise Man Who Would Understand Her True Value.

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?

Behold, I Have Reached The Peak Of The Mountain And My Spirit Has Taken Flight In The Heavens Of Freedom And Liberation. I Have Gone Far, Far Away, O Children Of My Mother; The Hills Beyond The Mists Are Now Hidden From My View, The Last Traces Of The Valleys Have Been Flooded By The Ocean Of Serenity, And The Paths And Trails Have Been Erased By The Hand Of Oblivion. The Roar Of Ocean Waves Has Faded. I No Longer Hear Anything But The Anthem Of Eternity, Which Harmonizes With The Spirit.

He Who Listens To Truth Is Not Less Than He Who Utters Truth.

The Mute Grain Turns To Love Songs When Swallowed By The Nightingale.