The Tears That You Spill,

And Now You Ask In Your Heart, ‘how Shall We Distinguish That Which Is Good In Pleasure From That Which Is Not Good?’ Go To Your Fields And Your Gardens, And You Shall Learn That It Is The Pleasure Of The Bee To Gather Honey Of The Flower, But It Is Also The Pleasure Of The Flower To Yield Its Honey To The Bee. For To The Bee A Flower Is A Fountain Of Life, And To The Flower A Bee Is A Messenger Of Love, And To Both, Bee And Flower, The Giving And The Receiving Of Pleasure Is A Need And An Ecstasy. * People Of Orphalese, Be In Your Pleasures Like The Flowers And The Bees.

Love One Another, But Make Not A Bond Of Love: Let It Rather Be A Moving Sea Between The Shores Of Your Souls. Fill Each Other's Cup But Drink Not From One Cup. Give One Another Of Your Bread But Eat Not From The Same Loaf Sing And Dance Together And Be Joyous, But Let Each One Of You Be Alone, Even As The Strings Of A Lute Are Alone Though They Quiver With The Same Music.

For The Sight Of The Angry Weather Saddens My Soul And The Sight Of The Town, Sitting Like A Bereaved Mother Beneath Layers Of Ice, Oppresses My Heart.

And All Knowledge Is Vain Save When There Is Work, And All Work Is Empty Save When There Is Love; And When You Work With Love You Bind Yourself To Yourself, And To One Another, And To God.

Listen To The Women When She Looks At You, Not When She Talks To You.