But It's Morning. Within My

Whenever We Condemn, We Cloak The World In Pain.

Almost Any Difficulty Will Move In The Face Of Honesty. When I Am Honest I Never Feel Stupid. And When I Am Honest I Am Automatically Humble.

If The Desire To Write Is Not Accompanied By Actual Writing, Then The Desire Must Be Not To Write.

Within Me Is The Potential To Commit Every Evil Act I See Being Committed By Other Men, And Unless I Feel This Potential, I Can At Any Moment Be Controlled By These Same Urges. I Am Free From These Urges Only If I Recognize When I Am Feeling Them, And While Feeling Them And Acknowledging Them To Be Me, Choose Not To Follow Them. Only In This Way Can I Begin To Regain The Disowned Parts Of Me. And Only In This Way Can I Know What It Is I Am Criticizing In Others.

It's Not That We Fear The Place Of Darkness, But That We Don't Think We Are Worth The Effort To Find The Place Of Light.