He Who Repeats What He

My Friend, I Am Not What I Seem. Seeming Is But A Garment I Wear — A Care-woven Garment That Protects Me From Thy Questionings And Thee From My Negligence. The "i" In Me, My Friend, Dwells In The House Of Silence, And Therein It Shall Remain For Ever More, Unperceived, Unapproachable.

Life Is The Mistress To Be Wooed.

Oh Heart, If One Should Say To You That The Soul Perishes Like The Body, Answer That The Flower Withers, But The Seed Remains.

In Every Aspect Of The Day Jesus Was Aware Of The Father. He Beheld Him In The Clouds And In The Shadows Of The Clouds That Pass Over The Earth.

And Is Not Time Even As Love Is, Undivided And Paceless?