The Fool Sees Naught But

And Is Not Time Even As Love Is, Undivided And Paceless? But If In You Thought You Must Measure Time Into Seasons, Let Each Season Encircle All The Other Seasons, And Let Today Embrace The Past With Remembrance And The Future With Longing.

Where Are You Now, My Beloved? Do You Hear My Weeping From Beyond The Ocean? Do You Understand My Need? Do You Know The Greatness Of My Patience?

They Say: 'if A Man Knew Himself, He Would Know All Mankind.' I Say: 'if A Man Loved Mankind, He Would Know Something Of Himself.

Much Of Your Pain Is The Bitter Potion By Which The Physician Within You Heals Your Sick Self.

My Friends: Music Is The Language Of Spirits. Its Melody Is Like The Frolicsome Breeze That Makes The Strings Quiver With Love. When The Gentle Fingers Of Music Knock At The Door Of Our Feelings, They Awaken Memories That Have Long Lain Hidden In The Depths Of The Past. The Sad Strains Of Music Bring Us Mournful Recollections; And Her Quiet Strains Bring Us Joyful Memories. The Sound Of Strings Makes Us Weep At The Departure Of A Dear One, Or Makes Us Smile At The Peace God Has Bestowed Upon Us.