I Purified My Lips With

Take Then This Book, Look Into It, And Show Me When Jesus Was Not Forgiving. Read This Diving Tragedy And Tell Me Where He Speaks Without Mercy And Compassion. You Visit Not The Sick And The Imprisoned; Nor Do You Feed The Hungry Or Give Refuge To The Stranger Or Comfort To The Mourner.

The Lust For Comfort, That Stealthy Thing That Enters The House A Guest, And Then Becomes A Host, And Then A Master.

God Created Music As A Common Language For All Men. It Inspires The Poets, The Composers And The Architects. It Lures Us To Search Our Souls For The Meaning Of The Mysteries Described In Ancient Books.

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.

And You Receivers - And You Are All Receivers - Assume No Weight Of Gratitude, Lest You Lay A Yoke Upon Yourself And Upon Him Who Gives. Rather Rise Together With The Giver On His Gifts As On Wings; For To Be Overmindful Of Your Debt, Is To Doubt His Generosity Who Has The Free Hearted Earth For Mother, And God For Father.