The Subtlest Beauties In Our

And You Would Accept The Seasons Of Your Heart Just As You Have Always Accepted That Seasons Pass Over Your Fields And You Would Watch With Serenity Through The Winters Of Your Grief.

You Shall Not Dwell In Tombs Made By The Dead For The Living.

Let There Be Spaces In Your Togetherness...just As Strings Of A Lute Dance Alone Though They Quiver With The Same Music.

Your House Shall Be Not An Anchor But A Mast It Shall Not Be A Glistening Film That Covers A Wound, But An Eyelid That Guards The Eye.

A Look Which Reveals Inward Stress Adds More Beauty To The Face, No Matter How Much Tragedy And Pain It Bespeaks; But The Face Which, In Silence, Does Not Announce Hidden Mysteries Is Not Beautiful, Regardless Of The Symmetry Of Its Features.