The Little Ones Leaped, And

Men Are Admitted Into Heaven Not Because They Have Curbed And Governed Their Passions Or Have No Passions, But Because They Have Cultivated Their Understandings. The Treasures Of Heaven Are Not Negations Of Passion, But Realities Of Intellect, From Which All The Passions Emanate Uncurbed In Their Eternal Glory.

To Some People A Tree Is Something So Incredibly Beautiful That It Brings Tears To The Eyes. To Others It Is Just A Green Thing That Stands In The Way.

When Nations Grow Old The Arts Grow Cold And Commerce Settles On Every Tree

I Am In You And You In Me, Mutual In Divine Love.

Bring Me My Bow Of Burning Gold: Bring Me My Arrows Of Desire: Bring Me My Spear: O Clouds, Unfold! Bring Me My Chariot Of Fire.