As The Strings Of A

We Wanderers, Ever Seeking The Lonelier Way, Begin No Day Where We Have Ended Another, And No Sunrise Finds Us Where Left By Sunset. Even While The Earth Sleeps We Travel. We Are The Seeds Of That Tenacious Plant, And It Is In Our Ripeness And Our Fullness Of Heart That We Are Given To The Wind To Be Scattered.

Fear Of The Devil Is One Way Of Doubting God.

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.

Our Anxiety Does Not Come From Thinking About The Future, But From Wanting To Control It.

Let Passion Fill Your Sails, But Let Reason Be Your Rudder.