For Love Is Sufficient Unto

O Love, Whose Lordly Hand Has Bridled My Desires, And Raised My Hunger And My Thirst To Dignity And Pride, Let Not The Strong In Me And The Constant Eat The Bread Or Drink The Wine That Tempt My Weaker Self. Let Me Rather Starve, And Let My Heart Parch With Thirst, And Let Me Die And Perish, Ere I Stretch My Hand To A Cup You Did Not Fill, Or A Bowl You Did Not Bless.

I Deserted The World And Sought Solitude Because I Became Tired Of Rendering Courtesy To Those Multitudes Who Believe That Humility Is A Sort Of Weakness, And Mercy A Kind Of Cowardice, And Snobbery A Form Of Strength.

Solitude Is A Silent Storm That Breaks Down All Our Dead Branches; Yet It Sends Our Living Roots Deeper Into The Living Heart Of The Living Earth.

Yet Has Not Man Wept At The Sounds? And Are Not His Tears Eloquent Understanding?

Every Beauty And Greatness In This World Is Created By A Single Thought Or Emotion Inside A Man. Every Thing We See Today, Made By Past Generations, Was, Before Its Appearance, A Thought In The Mind Of A Man Or An Impulse In The Heart Of A Woman.