I Wonder," He Said, "whether

Charity Never Humiliated Him Who Profited From It, Nor Ever Bound Him By The Chains Of Gratitude, Since It Was Not To Him But To God That The Gift Was Made.

More Wisdom Is Latent In Things As They Are Than In All The Words Men Use.

Night, The Beloved. Night, When Words Fade And Things Come Alive. When The Destructive Analysis Of Day Is Done, And All That Is Truly Important Becomes Whole And Sound Again. When Man Reassembles His Fragmentary Self And Grows With The Calm Of A Tree.

You Know... When You Are Sad You Love The Sunsets.

I Have No Right, By Anything I Do Or Say, To Demean A Human Being In His Own Eyes. What Matters Is Not What I Think Of Him; It Is What He Thinks Of Himself. To Undermine A Man's Self-respect Is A Sin.