Hate Is A Dead Thing.

Your Pain Is The Breaking Of The Shell That Encloses Your Understanding. Even As The Stone Of The Fruit Must Break, That Its Heart May Stand In The Sun, So Must You Know Pain.

They Tell Me: If You See A Slave Sleeping, Do Not Wake Him Lest He Be Dreaming Of Freedom. I Tell Them: If You See A Slave Sleeping, Wake Him And Explain To Him Freedom.

Your Clothes Conceal Much Of Your Beauty, Yet They Hide Not The Unbeautiful.

Remembrance Is A Form Of Meeting.

Knowledge Of The Self Is The Mother Of All Knowledge. So It Is Incumbent On Me To Know My Self, To Know It Completely, To Know Its Minutiae, Its Characteristics, Its Subtleties, And Its Very Atoms.