Without The Frown Of Clouds

And Even If This World Burns Up Hidden Harps Will Still Play Here.

When Someone Is Counting Out Gold For You, Don't Look At Your Hands, Or The Gold. Look At The Giver.

Sell Not Yourself At Little Price, Being So Precious In God's Eyes.

Love Is The Reality, And Poetry Is The Drum.

If You Find The Mirror Of The Heart Dull, The Rust Has Not Been Cleared From Its Face.