You Shall Not See Me Again Until You Say
Once I filled my hand with mist.
Then I opened it and lo, the mist was a worm.
And I closed and opened my hand again, and behold at that place was a bird.
And again I airtight and opened my hand, and in its hollow stood a man with a sorry face up, turned upward.
And once more I closed my mitt, and when I opened it there was naught just mist.
But I heard a song of exceeding sweetness.
It was but yesterday I thought myself a fragment quivering without rhythm in the sphere of life.
Now I know that I am the sphere, and all life in rhythmic fragments moves inside me.
They say to me in their awakening, "You and the earth you live in are merely a grain of sand upon the infinite shore of an infinite sea."
And in my dream I say to them, "I am the infinite body of water, and all worlds are but grains of sand upon my shore."
Only once have I been made mute. It was when a human asked me, "Who are yous?"
The first thought of God was an affections.
The first word of God was a man.
We were fluttering, wandering, longing creatures a k m years earlier the sea and the wind in the forest gave us words.
Now how can we limited the ancient of days in the states with simply the sounds of our yesterdays?
The Sphinx spoke only one time, and the Sphinx said, "A grain of sand is a desert, and a desert is a grain of sand; and now let us all be silent over again."
I heard the Sphinx, but I did non understand.
Long did I lie in the grit of Egypt, silent and unaware of the seasons.
Then the dominicus gave me birth, and I rose and walked upon the banks of the Nile,
Singing with the days and dreaming with the nights.
And now the sun threads upon me with a thousand feet that I may lie again in the grit of Egypt.
Only behold a curiosity and a riddle!
The very sunday that gathered me cannot scatter me.
Withal erect am I, and sure of foot do I walk upon the banks of the Nile.
Remembrance is a form of meeting.
Forgetfulness is a form of freedom.
We measure fourth dimension according to the movement of countless suns; and they measure time past lilliputian machines in their niggling pockets.
Now tell me, how could we ever meet at the same place and the aforementioned time?
Space is not space between the earth and the sun to i who looks downward from the windows of the Milky Fashion.
Humanity is a river of lite running from the ex-eternity to eternity.
On my way to the Holy Metropolis I met another pilgrim and I asked him, "Is this indeed the style to the Holy City?"
And he said, "Follow me, and you volition accomplish the Holy Metropolis in a day and a night."
And I followed him. And nosotros walked many days and many nights, withal we did not accomplish the Holy City.
And what was to my surprise he became aroused with me because he had misled me.
Make me, oh God, the prey of the lion, ere You brand the rabbit my prey.
I may not attain the dawn save by the path of the night.
My house says to me, "Do not exit 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 take no past, nor have I a futurity. If I stay here, there is a going in my staying; and if I become there is a staying in my going. Just beloved and decease will change all things."
How can I lose organized religion in the justice of life, when the dreams of those who slumber upon feathers are not more beautiful than the dreams of those who sleep upon the world?
Seven times have I despised my soul:
The first fourth dimension when I saw her being meek that she might achieve height.
The second time when I saw her limping before the crippled.
The 3rd time when she was given to choose between the difficult and the piece of cake, and she chose the easy.
The fourth fourth dimension when she committed a wrong, and comforted herself that others also commit wrong.
The fifth time when she forbore for weakness, and attributed her patience to strength.
The sixth time when she despised the ugliness of a face, and knew not that it was one of her ain masks.
And the seventh time when she sang a song of praise, and deemed it a virtue.
I AM IGNORANT of accented truth. Merely I am humble before my ignorance and therein lies my honour and my advantage.
There is a space between man'due south imagination and man'south attainment that may but be traversed past his longing.
Paradise is there, behind that door, in the next room; but I have lost the central.
Mayhap I have but mislaid it.
You are blind and I am deaf and dumb, so let u.s.a. impact hands and understand.
The significance of man is non in what he attains, but rather in what he longs to attain.
Some of us are like ink and some similar paper.
And if it were not for the blackness of some of us, some of us would be dumb;
And if it were not for the whiteness of some of united states of america, some of united states would be blind.
Requite me an ear and I will give you a voice.
Our heed is a sponge; our eye is a stream.
Is it not strange that most of u.s. choose sucking rather than running?
When you long for blessings that you may non name, and when you grieve knowing non the cause, then indeed yous are growing with all things that abound, and rising toward your greater self.
When one is drunk with a vision, he deems his faint expression of information technology the very vino.
You drink wine that you may be intoxicated; and I drinkable that it may sober me from that other wine.
When my cup is empty I resign myself to its emptiness; but when it is one-half total I resent its half-fulness.
The reality of the other person is non in what he reveals to you, but in what he cannot reveal to you.
Therefore, if you would empathize him, listen not to what he says merely rather to what he does not say.
Half of what I say is meaningless; simply I say information technology so that the other half may reach you.
A sense of sense of humour is a sense of proportion.
My loneliness was built-in when men praised my talkative faults and blamed my silent virtues.
When Life does non find a vocalizer to sing her center she produces a philosopher to speak her mind.
A truth is to exist known ever, to be uttered sometimes.
The real in us is silent; the acquired is talkative.
The vocalism of life in me cannot reach the ear of life in you; but let u.s. talk that we may not experience lone.
When ii women talk they say cipher; when i woman speaks she reveals all of life.
Frogs may bellow louder than bulls, merely they cannot drag the turn in the field non plow the bicycle of the winepress, and of their skins you cannot make shoes.
But the dumb green-eyed the talkative.
If winter should say, "Spring is in my heart," who would believe winter?
Every seed is a longing.
Should you really open your optics and see, you would behold your image in all images.
And should you open your ears and mind, you would hear your own voice in all voices.
It takes 2 of usa to observe truth: i to utter information technology and ane to empathise information technology.
Though the wave of words is forever upon us, however our depth is forever silent.
Many a doctrine is similar a window pane. We run into truth through it but it divides us from truth.
Now allow the states play hide and seek. Should yous hide in my middle information technology would non be difficult to find you. Just should you hide behind your ain trounce, then it would exist useless for anyone to seek you.
A woman may veil her face up with a smile.How noble is the sad centre who would sing a joyous vocal with joyous hearts.
He who would understand a adult female, or dissect genius, or solve the mystery of silence is the very man who would wake from a beautiful dream to sit at a breakfast table.
I would walk with all those who walk. I would not stand withal to scout the procession passing by.
Y'all owe more than than gilt to him who serves you. Give him of your center or serve him.
Nay, we have not lived in vain. Have they not built towers of our bones?
Let united states non exist detail and exclusive. The poet'due south mind and the scorpion's tail ascent in glory from the same earth.
Every dragon gives nascency to a St. George who slays it.
Trees are poems that the world writes upon the sky. We vicious them downwardly and turn them into paper that we may tape our emptiness.
Should you lot care to write (and only the saints know why you lot should) you must needs have knowledge and art and music -- the cognition of the music of words, the fine art of being artless, and the magic of loving your readers.
They dip their pens in our hearts and call up they are inspired.
Should a tree write its autobiography information technology would non be dissimilar the history of a race.
If I were to choose between the power of writing a poem and the ecstasy of a poem unwritten, I would choose the ecstasy. It is better poetry.
Just you and all my neighbors concord that I ever cull desperately.
Poesy is not an opinion expressed. It is a song that rises from a bleeding wound or a smile mouth.
Words are timeless. You should utter them or write them with a noesis of their timelessness.
A POET IS a dethroned king sitting amidst the ashes of his palace trying to style an paradigm out of the ashes.
Poetry is a bargain of joy and pain and wonder, with a dash of the dictionary.
In vain shall a poet seek the mother of the songs of his heart.
Once I said to a poet, "Nosotros shall not know your worth until you lot die."
And he answered proverb, "Yeah, death is always the revealer. And if indeed you would know my worth it is that I have more in my centre than upon my tongue, and more in my desire than in my mitt."
If you sing of dazzler though lone in the heart of the desert you volition have an audience.
Poetry is wisdom that enchants the heart.
Wisdom is poetry that sings in the mind.
If we could enchant man's heart and at the same time sing in his mind,
Then in truth he would alive in the shadow of God.
Inspiration volition ever sing; inspiration will never explain.
We frequently sing lullabies to our children that we ourselves may slumber.
All our words are just crumbs that fall downwardly from the feast of the mind.
Thinking is e'er the stumbling rock to poetry.
A groovy vocalist is he who sings our silences.
How can you sing if your mouth be filled with food?
How shall your hand exist raised in approval if it is filled with gold?
They say the nightingale pierces his bosom with a thorn when he sings his love vocal.
Then practice we all. How else should we sing?
Genius is but a robin's song at the beginning of a slow bound.
Fifty-fifty the most winged spirit cannot escape physical necessity.
A madman is non less a musician than yous or myself; only the instrument on which he plays is a lilliputian out of tune.
The song that lies silent in the eye of a mother sings upon the lips of her child.
No longing remains unfulfilled.
I have never agreed with my other cocky wholly. The truth of the affair seems to prevarication betwixt us.
Your other self is always sorry for yous. But your other cocky grows on sorrow; so all is well.
At that place is no struggle of soul and body save in the minds of those whose souls are comatose and whose bodies are out of tune.
When you attain the heart of life you shall detect beauty in all things, fifty-fifty in the eyes that are blind to beauty.
Nosotros live just to detect beauty. All else is a form of waiting.
Sow a seed and the world will yield you a flower. Dream your dream to the heaven and information technology will bring you your beloved.
The devil died the very twenty-four hour period you were built-in.
Now you practise not have to go through hell to meet an angel.
Many a woman borrows a homo'south heart; very few could possess it.
If you would possess you must not claim.
When a human being's hand touches the hand of a woman they both affect the middle of eternity.
Love is the veil between lover and lover.
Every man loves two women; the 1 is the creation of his imagination, and the other is not yet born.
Men who do non forgive women their piffling faults will never savor their great virtues.
Beloved that does non renew itself every mean solar day becomes a addiction and in turn a slavery.
Lovers embrace that which is betwixt them rather than each other.
Love and doubt have never been on speaking terms.
Love is a word of light, written past a manus of light, upon a page of light.
Friendship is ever a sweet responsibility, never an opportunity.
If you do not sympathise your friend nether all atmospheric condition you lot will never understand him.
Your most radiant garment is of the other person's weaving;
You lot most savory meal is that which you consume at the other person'southward table;
Your most comfortable bed is in the other person's house.
Now tell me, how tin can you lot dissever yourself from the other person?
Your mind and my eye will never agree until your heed ceases to live in numbers and my heart in the mist.
We shall never understand one some other until we reduce the language to seven words.
HOW SHALL MY heart be unsealed unless it be broken?
Only keen sorrow or great joy can reveal your truth.
If you would be revealed you must either trip the light fantastic naked in the sunday, or carry your cross.
Should nature heed what we say of contentment no river would seek the sea, and no wintertime would turn to Bound. Should she heed all we say of thrift, how many of united states of america would be breathing this air?
You see but your shadow when you turn your back to the sun.
You are complimentary before the dominicus of the 24-hour interval, and free before the stars of the dark;
And you are free when at that place is no sun and no moon and no star.
You lot are even free when y'all close your eyes upon all there is.
But you are a slave to him whom you love because you beloved him,
And a slave to him who loves you lot because he loves you.
We are all beggars at the gate of the temple, and each one of u.s. receives his share of the bounty of the Rex when he enters the temple, and when he goes out.
But nosotros are all jealous of 1 another, which is another way of belittling the Male monarch.
Yous cannot eat beyond your appetite. The other half of the loaf belongs to the other person, and there should remain a little bread for the hazard guest.
If it were non for your guests all houses would be graves.
Said a gracious wolf to a elementary sheep, "Will you not honor our business firm with a visit?"
And the sheep answered, "We would have been honored to visit your house if it were not in your stomach."
I stopped my guest on the threshold and said, "Nay, wipe not your feet as you enter, simply as y'all get out."
Generosity is not in giving me that which I demand more than y'all practise, but information technology is in giving me that which you need more than I do.
You are indeed charitable when you give, and while giving, turn your face away and so that you may not see the shyness of the receiver.
The difference between the richest man and the poorest is but a twenty-four hours of hunger and an hr of thirst.
We often borrow from our tomorrows to pay our debts to our yesterdays.
I too am visited by angels and devils, merely I get rid of them.
When it is an angel I pray an onetime prayer, and he is bored;
When information technology is a devil I commit an old sin, and he passes me by.
Subsequently all this is non a bad prison; only I exercise non similar this wall betwixt my jail cell and the next prisoner's cell;
Withal I assure y'all that I do not wish to reproach the warder not the Architect of the prison.
Those who give yous a ophidian when you lot ask for a fish, may have nil only serpents to give. It is then generosity on their part.
Trickery succeeds sometimes, but it always commits suicide.
You are truly a forgiver when you forgive murderers who never spill blood, thieves who never steal, and liars who utter no falsehood.
He who can put his finger upon that which divides good from evil is he who can touch the very hem of the garment of God.
If your middle is a volcano how shall you look flowers to bloom in your hands?
A strange form of self-indulgence! There are times when I would be wronged and cheated, that I may laugh at the expense of those who call back I practise not know I am being wronged and cheated.
What shall I say of him who is the pursuer playing the function of the pursued?
Allow him who wipes his soiled hands with your garment take your garment. He may need information technology once more; surely yous would non.
It is a pity that coin-changers cannot be proficient gardeners.
Please exercise not whitewash your inherent faults with your caused virtues. I would take the faults; they are similar mine own.
How often accept I attributed to myself crimes I have never committed, so that the other person may feel comfortable in my presence.
Even the masks of life are masks of deeper mystery.
You may estimate others only co-ordinate to your noesis of yourself.
Tell me now, who amid us is guilty and who is unguilty?
The truly just is he who feels half guilty of your misdeeds.
Just an idiot and a genius break human-fabricated laws; and they are the nearest to the heart of God.
It is only when you are pursued that you become swift.
I take no enemies, O God, only if I am to have an enemy
Let his forcefulness exist equal to mine,
That truth alone may be the victor.
You lot will be quite friendly with your enemy when you both dice.
Possibly a homo may commit suicide in self-defense.
Long ago there lived a Homo who was crucified for being too loving and too lovable.
And strange to relate I met him thrice yesterday.
The first time He was asking a policeman not to accept a prostitute to prison; the second time He was drinking wine with an outcast; and the third time He was having a fist-fight with a promoter inside a church.
If all they say of proficient and evil were true, and then my life is but ane long crime.
Pity is but half justice.
THE ONLY ONE who has been unjust to me is the ane to whose brother I have been unjust.
When y'all see a human led to prison say in your heart, "Mayhap he is escaping from a narrower prison."
And when yous see a human being drunken say in your heart, "Mayhap he sought escape from something all the same more unbeautiful."
Oftentimes I accept hated in self-defense force; but if I were stronger I would not have used such a weapon.
How stupid is he who would patch the hatred in his eyes with the smile of his lips.
Only those beneath me can envy or detest me.
I take never been envied nor hated; I am in a higher place no ane.
Only those above me can praise or belittle me.
I have never been praised nor belittled; I am below no 1.
Your maxim to me, "I practise not understand you," is praise beyond my worth, and an insult yous do not deserve.
How hateful am I when life gives me gilded and I requite you silver, and nevertheless I deem myself generous.When yous achieve the heart of life y'all will find yourself non higher than the felon, and not lower than the prophet.
Strange that you lot should pity the slow-footed and non the dull-minded,
And the blind-eyed rather than the blind-hearted.
It is wiser for the lame not to intermission his crutches upon the head of his enemy.
How blind is he who gives you out of his pocket that he may have out of your heart.
Life is a procession. The slow of pes finds it too swift and he steps out;
And the swift of foot finds it as well boring and he too steps out.
If in that location is such a thing every bit sin some of us commit it backward following our forefathers' footsteps;
And some of us commit information technology forward by overruling our children.
The truly good is he who is ane with all those who are accounted bad.
We are all prisoners but some of u.s. are in cells with windows and some without.
Strange that nosotros all defend our wrongs with more vigor than we exercise our rights.
Should we all confess our sins to 1 some other we would all express mirth at i another for our lack of originality.
Should we all reveal our virtues we would too laugh for the same cause.
An individual is higher up man-fabricated laws until he commits a criminal offence against man-fabricated conventions; After that he is neither in a higher place anyone nor lower than anyone.
Government is an agreement between you and myself. Yous and myself are ofttimes wrong.
Crime is either another name of need or an attribute of a disease.
Is there a greater fault than being conscious of the other person's faults?
If the other person laughs at you, you tin pity him; merely if you laugh at him you may never forgive yourself.
If the other person injures you, you may forget the injury; but if yous injure him y'all will always think.
In truth the other person is your most sensitive self given another body.
How daydreaming you are when you would accept men fly with your wings and you cannot even give them a feather.
Once a man sat at my board and ate my bread and drank my wine and went away laughing at me.
And then he came once more for bread and vino, and I spurned him;
And the angels laughed at me.
Hate is a dead matter. Who of you would be a tomb?
It is the honor of the murdered that he is not the murderer.
The tribune of humanity is in its silent heart, never its talkative mind.
They deem me mad because I will not sell my days for gold;
And I deem them mad because they think my days accept a cost.
They spread before us their riches of gold and silver, of ivory and ebony, and we spread before them our hearts and our spirits.;
And withal they deem themselves the hosts and us the guests.
I would not be the least amid men with dreams and the desire to fulfill them, rather than the greatest with no dreams and no desires.
The most pitiful amid men is he who turns his dreams into silvery and gold.
Nosotros are all climbing toward the summit of our hearts' desire. Should the other climber steal your sack and your bag and wax fat on the one and heavy on the other, you should pity him;
The climbing will exist harder for his flesh, and the burden will make his way longer.
And should y'all in your leanness see his flesh puffing up, aid him a pace; it volition add to your swiftness.
You cannot guess any human beyond your noesis of him, and how pocket-sized is your knowledge.
I would not mind to a conqueror preaching to the conquered.
The truly free man is he who bears the load of the bond slave patiently.
A thou years agone my neighbor said to me, "I hate life, for it is naught but a affair of pain."
And yesterday I passed by a cemetery and saw life dancing upon his grave.
Strife in nature is merely disorder longing for order.
Solitude is a silent tempest that breaks down all our expressionless branches;
All the same it sends our living roots deeper into the living heart of the living earth.
Once I spoke of the sea to a brook, and the brook thought me but an imaginative exaggerator;
And once I spoke of a brook to the bounding main, and the sea thought me but a depreciative defamer.
How narrow is the vision that exalts the busyness of the ant to a higher place the singing of the grasshopper.
The highest virtue hither may be the least in another earth.
The deep and the high go to the depth or to the tiptop in a straight line; only the spacious tin move in circles.
IF IT WERE not for our conception of weights and measures we would stand in awe of the firefly as we do before the sun.
A scientist without imagination is a butcher with dull knives and out-worn scales.
But what would you, since we are not all vegetarians?
When you sing the hungry hears you with his tum.
Death is not nearer to the anile than to the new-born; neither is life.
If indeed you must be aboveboard, be candid beautifully; otherwise keep silent, for there is a human being in our neighborhood who is dying.
Mayhap a funeral among men is a wedding ceremony feast among the angels.
A forgotten reality may die and exit in its will seven thousand actualities and facts to exist spent in its funeral and the building of a tomb.
In truth we talk just to ourselves, but sometimes we talk loud plenty that others may hear us.
The obvious is that which is never seen until someone expresses it merely.
If the Milky way were not inside me how should I have seen it or known information technology?
Unless I am a physician among physicians they would non believe that I am an astronomer.
Perhaps the body of water's definition of a beat out is the pearl.
Perhaps time's definition of coal is the diamond.
Fame is the shadow of passion continuing in the light.
A root is a flower that disdains fame.
There is neither religion nor science beyond dazzler.
Every cracking man I have known had something small in his make-upwards; and information technology was that modest something which prevented inactivity or madness or suicide.
The truly not bad human is he who would main no ane, and who would exist mastered by none.
I would not believe that a human is mediocre merely because he kills the criminals and the prophets.
Tolerance is honey sick with the sickness of haughtiness.
Worms will plough; but is it non strange that even elephants will yield?
A disagreement may exist the shortest cut betwixt ii minds.
I am the flame and I am the dry bush, and 1 part of me consumes the other function.
Nosotros are all seeking the summit of the holy moutain; merely shall not our road be shorter if we consider the past a nautical chart and not a guide?
Wisdom ceases to exist wisdom when it becomes likewise proud to weep, too grave to laugh, and too self-ful to seek other than itself.
Had I filled myself with all that yous know what room should I have for all that you exercise not know?
I have learned silence from the talkative, toleration from the intolerant, and kindness from the unkind; yet strange, I am ungrateful to these teachers.
A bigot is a stone-leaf orator.
The silence of the envious is too noisy.
When you reach the terminate of what you should know, yous will exist at the commencement of what you should sense.
An exaggeration is a truth that has lost its temper.
If you tin run across simply what calorie-free reveals and hear just what sound announces,
Then in truth you do not come across nor practice you hear.
A fact is a truth unsexed.
You cannot laugh and be unkind at the aforementioned fourth dimension.
The nearest to my eye are a rex without a kingdom and a poor man who does not know how to beg.
A shy failure is nobler than an immodest success.
Dig anywhere in the earth and you will find a treasure, only you lot must dig with the religion of a peasant.
Said a hunted play tricks followed by 20 horsemen and a pack of twenty hounds, "Of grade they will kill me. But how poor and how stupid they must be. Surely it would not be worth while for twenty foxes riding on twenty asses and accompanied by twenty wolves to hunt and kill 1 homo."
It is the mind in us that yields to the laws made by united states of america, but never the spirit in us.
A traveler am I and a navigator, and every mean solar day I discover a new region within my soul.
A woman protested saying, "Of course information technology was a righteous war. My son fell in it."
I said to Life, "I would hear Death speak."
And Life raised her phonation a little higher and said, "You hear him at present."
When you have solved all the mysteries of life you long for death, for it is but another mystery of life.
Birth and death are the two noblest expressions of bravery.
My friend, you and I shall remain strangers unto life,
And unto one some other, and each unto himself,
Until the twenty-four hour period when you lot shall speak and I shall mind
Deeming your vox my ain voice;
And when I shall stand before yous
Thinking myself standing before a mirror.
They say to me, "Should you know yourself you would know all men."
And I say, "Only when I seek all men shall I know myself."
MAN IS TWO men; one is awake in darkness, the other is asleep in low-cal.
A hermit is one who renounces the world of fragments that he may enjoy the globe wholly and without intermission.
There lies a green field between the scholar and the poet; should the scholar cross it he becomes a wise human; should the poet cross it, he becomes a prophet.
Yestereve I saw philosophers in the market-place carrying their heads in baskets, and crying aloud, "Wisdom! Wisdom for auction!"
Poor philosophers! They must needs sell their heads to feed their hearts.
And the street sweeper said, "Thanks, sir. But tell me what is your task?"
And the philosopher answered proverb, "I study homo's mind, his deeds and his desires."
Then the street sweeper went on with his sweeping and said with a smile, "I pity you lot too."
He who listens to truth is not less than he who utters truth.
No man can describe the line betwixt necessities and luxuries. But the angels can do that, and the angels are wise and contemplative.
Perhaps the angels are our better idea in space.
He is the true prince who finds his throne in the eye of the dervish.
Generosity is giving more than you can, and pride is taking less than you lot demand.
In truth yous owe null to any man. Y'all owe all to all men.
All those who have lived in the past live with us now. Surely none of u.s.a. would be an ungracious host.
He who longs the most lives the longest.
They say to me, "A bird in the hand is worth x in the bush."
Simply I say, "A bird and a plumage in the bush-league is worth more than ten birds in the hand."
Your seeking subsequently that feather is life with winged anxiety; nay, information technology is life itself.
There are only two elements here, beauty and truth; beauty in the hearts of lovers, and truth in the arms of the tillers of the soil.
Peachy dazzler captures me, simply a beauty still greater frees me even from itself.
Dazzler shines brighter in the heart of him who longs for information technology than in the eyes of him who sees it.
I admire him who reveals his mind to me; I honor him who unveils his dreams. Simply why am I shy, and even a trivial ashamed before him who serves me?
The gifted were once proud in serving princes.
Now they claim honor in serving paupers.
The angels know that too many applied men eat their bread with the sweat of the dreamer's brow.
Wit is oftentimes a mask. If y'all could tear it you would find either a genius irritated or cleverness juggling.
The agreement attributes to me understanding and the slow, dullness. I remember they are both correct.
Only those with secrets in their hearts could divine the secrets in our hearts.
He who would share your pleasure just not your hurting shall lose the key to one of the seven gates of Paradise.
Yes, there is a Nirvanah; it is in leading your sheep to a green pasture, and in putting your child to sleep, and in writing the final line of your poem.
We choose our joys and our sorrows long before we experience them.
Sadness is but a wall between two gardens.
When either your joy or your sorrow becomes great the earth becomes small.
Want is half of life; idifference is half of decease.
The bitterest affair in our today'due south sorrow is the retentivity of our yesterday's joy.
They say to me, "Yous must needs choose between the pleasures of this globe and the peace of the next globe."
And I say to them, "I have chosen both the delights of this world and the peace of the next. For I know in my heart that the Supreme Poet wrote but one poem, and information technology scans perfectly, and information technology also rhymes perfectly."
Religion is an oasis in the middle which will never be reached by the caravan of thinking.
When yous reach your acme you shall desire but only for want; and you lot shall hunger, for hunger; and you shall thirst for greater thirst.
If you lot reveal your secrets to the wind you should not blame the wind for revealing them to the copse.
The flowers of spring are winter's dreams related at the breakfast table of the angels.
Said a skunk to a tube-rose, "See how swiftly I run, while y'all cannot walk nor even creep."
Said the tube-rose to the skunk, "Oh, near noble swift runner, delight run swiftly!"
Turtles can tell more than about roads than hares.
Strange that creatures without backbones have the hardest shells.
The most talkative is the least intelligent, and at that place is hardly a difference betwixt an orator and an auctioneer.
Exist grateful that you do not take to alive down the renown of a father nor the wealth of an uncle.
Just above all exist grateful that no one will have to live down either your renown or your wealth.
But when a juggler misses catching his ball does he appeal to me.
The envious praises me unknowingly.
Long were you a dream in your female parent'southward slumber, and so she woke to give you nascence.
The germ of the race is in your mother's longing.
My begetter and mother desired a kid and they begot me.
And I wanted a mother and a male parent and I begot night and the sea.
Some of our children are our justifications and some are simply our regrets.
When nighttime comes and you too are nighttime, lie down and be nighttime with a will.
And when morning comes and you are still night stand upwards and say to the day with a will, "I am yet night."
Information technology is stupid to play a office with the night and the day.
They would both laugh at you.
The mountain veiled in mist is not a hill; an oak tree in the rain is non a weeping willow.
Behold here is a paradox; the deep and high are nearer to one another than the mid-level to either.
When I stood a clear mirror before you, yous gazed into me and saw your image.
And so you said, "I love you."
But in truth y'all loved yourself in me.
When yous enjoy loving your neighbor it ceases to exist a virtue.
Honey which is not always springing is always dying.
You cannot have youth and the cognition of information technology at the same fourth dimension;
For youth is too busy living to know, and noesis is too busy seeking itself to live.
And you may say in your innocence, "How noble is the one and how ignoble is the other."
But should y'all close your optics and mind awhile you would hear a vocalism whispering in the ether, "One seeks me in prayer, and the other in pain. And in the spirit of each there is a bower for my spirit."
Once every hundred years Jesus of Nazareth meets Jesus of the Christian in a garden amongst the hills of Lebanon. And they talk long; and each time Jesus of Nazareth goes away saying to Jesus of the Christian, "My friend, I fright we shall never, never agree."
May God feed the over-abundant!
A great man has two hearts; one bleeds and the other forbears.
Should i tell a lie which does not hurt you nor anyone else, why not say in your eye that the house of his facts is likewise pocket-sized for his fancies, and he had to get out information technology for larger infinite?
Behind every closed door is a mystery sealed with seven seals.
Waiting is the hoofs of time.
What if trouble should be a new window in the Eastern wall of your house?
Y'all may forget the one with whom you have laughed, simply never the ane with whom y'all take wept.
There must be something strangely sacred in salt. It is in our tears and in the sea.
Our God in His gracious thirst volition drink us all, the dewdrop and the tear.
Y'all are but a fragment of your giant cocky, a mouth that seeks bread, and a blind manus that holds the loving cup for a thirsty rima oris.
If you would rise but a cubit above race and country and self you would indeed become godlike.
If I were you I would not find error with the sea at low tide.
It is a practiced ship and our Captain is able; it is only your tum that is in disorder.
Should you sit upon a cloud you would not come across the boundary line between ane state and another, nor the boundary rock between a farm and a farm.
Information technology is a pity you cannot sit upon a cloud.
Seven centuries ago seven white doves rose from a deep valley flying to the snow-white pinnacle of the mountain. I of the seven men who watched the flight said, "I see a black spot on the fly of the seventh dove."
Today the people in that valley tell of seven blackness doves who flew to the peak of the snowy mountain.
In the autumn I gathered all my sorrows and buried them in my garden.
And when April returned and spring came to midweek the earth, there grew in my garden beautiful flowers unlike all other flowers.
And my neighbors came to behold them, and they all said to me, "When fall comes again, at seeding fourth dimension, will you not give united states of america of the seeds of these flowers that we may have them in our gardens?"
It is indeed misery if I stretch an empty hand to men and receive nothing; only it is hopelessness if I stretch a full hand and find none to receive.
I long for eternity because there I shall meet my unwritten poems and my unpainted pictures.
Art is a step from nature toward the Infinite.
A piece of work of art is a mist carved into an image.
Fifty-fifty the easily that make crowns of thorns are better than idle hands.
Our nearly sacred tears never seek our eyes.
Every homo is the descendant of every king and every slave that ever lived.
If the great-grandfather of Jesus had known what was hidden inside him, would he not take stood in awe of himself?
Was the love of Judas' mother of her son less than the love of Mary for Jesus?
There are three miracles of our Brother Jesus not yet recorded in the Book: the start that He was a homo like y'all and me, the second that He had a sense of sense of humor, and the 3rd that He knew He was a conqueror though conquered.
Crucified One, you are crucified upon my heart; and the nails that pierce your hands pierce the walls of my heart.
And tomorrow when a stranger passes by this Golgotha he will non know that two bled here.
He volition deem it the blood of i human being.
You may have heard of the Blest Mountain.
It is the highest mountain in our world.
Should you reach the height you would take merely one desire, and that to descend and be with those who dwell in the deepest valley.
That is why it is called the Blessed Mountain.
Every thought I take imprisoned in expression I must free by my deeds.
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Source: http://www-personal.umich.edu/~jrcole/gibran/sandfoam/sandfoam.htm
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