Work Is Love Made Visible.

Your Joy Is Your Sorrow Unmasked. And The Same Well From Which Your Laughter Rises Was Oftentimes Filled With Your Tears. And How Else Can It Be? The Deeper That Sorrow Carves Into Your Being, The More Joy You Can Contain. Is Not The Cup That Holds Your Wine The Very Cup That Was Burned In The Potter's Oven? And Is Not The Lute That Soothes Your Spirit, The Very Wood That Was Hollowed With Knives?

Prayer Is The Song Of The Heart. It Reaches The Ear Of God Even If It Is Mingled With The Cry And The Tumult Of A Thousand Men.

If You Sing Of Beauty Though Alone In The Heart Of The Desert You Will Have An Audience.

For Life Goes Not Backward, Nor Tarries With Yesterday.

Tortoises Can Tell You More About The Road Than Hares.