Beware Of The Community In

Caminante, No Hay Camino, Se Hace Camino Al Andar. (walk, There Is No Path, The Path Is Made By Walking.)

The Wind, One Brilliant Day, Called To My Soul With An Odor Of Jasmine. "in Return For The Odor Of My Jasmine, I'd Like All The Odor Of Your Roses." "i Have No Roses; All The Flowers In My Garden Are Dead." "well Then, I'll Take The Withered Petals And The Yellow Leaves And The Waters Of The Fountain." The Wind Left. And I Wept. And I Said To Myself: "what Have You Done With The Garden That Was Entrusted To You?

Beyond Living And Dreaming There Is Something More Important: Waking Up.

There Is No Road, The Road Is Made By Walking.

Last Night As I Was Sleeping, I Dreamt - Marvellous Error! - That It Was God I Had Here Inside My Heart.