The Envier Praises Me Unknowingly.

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

Believing Is A Fine Thing, But Placing Those Beliefs Into Execution Is A Test Of Strength. Many Are Those Who Talk Like The Roar Of The Sea, Gut Their Lives Are Shallow And Stagnant, Like The Rotting Marshes. Many Are Those Who Lift Their Heads Above The Mountain Tops, But Their Spirits Remain Dormant In The Obscurity Of The Caverns.

Every Beauty And Greatness In This World Is Created By A Single Thought Or Emotion Inside A Man. Every Thing We See Today, Made By Past Generations, Was, Before Its Appearance, A Thought In The Mind Of A Man Or An Impulse In The Heart Of A Woman.

You Often Say ; I Would Give , But Only To The Deserving, The Trees In Your Orchard Say Not So , Nor The Flocks In Your Pasture. Surely He Who Is Worthy To Receive His Days And Nights Is Worthy Of All Else From You. And He Who Has Deserved To Drink From The Ocean Of Life Deserves To Fill His Cup From Your Little Stream. See First That Youyourself Deserve To Be A Giver , And An Insturument Of Giving. For In Truth It Is Life That Gives Unto Life-while You , Who Deem Yourself A Giver , Is But A Witness.

Rebellion Without Truth Is Like Spring In A Bleak, Arid Desert.