Solitude Is A Silent Storm

Trees Are Poems That The Earth Writes Upon The Sky.

Your Friend Is Your Needs Answered.

And Some Of Your Elders Remember Pleasures With Regret Like Wrongs Committed In Drunkenness. But Regret Is The Beclouding Of The Mind And Not Its Chastisement. They Should Remember Their Pleasures With Gratitude, As They Would The Harvest Of A Summer.

The Thirst Of Soul Is Sweeter Than The Wine Of Material Things, And The Fear Of Spirit Is Dearer Than The Security Of The Body.

My Yearning Is My Cup, My Burning Thirst Is My Drink, And My Solitude Is My Intoxication; I Do Not And Shall Not Quench My Thirst. But In This Burning That Is Never Extinguished Is A Joy That Never Wanes.