All Men Love You For

Much Of Your Pain Is Self-chosen.

For Life Goes Not Backward, Nor Tarries With Yesterday.

Rob A Neighbour With A Smile.

Because The Soul Is Like A Flower That Folds Its Petals When Dark Comes, And Breathes Not Its Fragrance Into The Phantoms Of The Night.

You Often Say ; I Would Give , But Only To The Deserving, The Trees In Your Orchard Say Not So , Nor The Flocks In Your Pasture. Surely He Who Is Worthy To Receive His Days And Nights Is Worthy Of All Else From You. And He Who Has Deserved To Drink From The Ocean Of Life Deserves To Fill His Cup From Your Little Stream. See First That Youyourself Deserve To Be A Giver , And An Insturument Of Giving. For In Truth It Is Life That Gives Unto Life-while You , Who Deem Yourself A Giver , Is But A Witness.