You Progress Not Through What

I Would Not Exchange The Laughter Of My Heart For The Fortunes Of The Multitudes; Nor Would I Be Content With Converting My Tears, Invited By My Agonized Self, Into Calm. It Is My Fervent Hope That My Whole Life On This Earth Will Ever Be Tears And Laughter. Tears That Purify My Heart And Reveal To Me The Secret Of Life And Its Mystery, Laughter That Brings Me Closer To My Fellow Men; Tears With Which I Join The Broken-hearted, Laugher That Symbolizes Joy Over My Very Existence.

Like The Ocean Is Your God-self; It Remains For Ever Undefiled. And Like The Ether It Lifts But The Winged. Even Like The Sun Is Your God-self; It Knows Not The Ways Of The Mole Nor Seeks It The Holes Of The Serpent. But Your God-self Does Not Dwell Alone In Your Being. Much In You Is Still Man, And Much In You Is Not Yet Man, But A Shapeless Pigmy That Walks Asleep In The Mist Searching For Its Own Awakening.

If You Reveal Your Secrets To The Wind, You Should Not Blame The Wind For Revealing Them To The Trees.

Hallow The Body As A Temple To Comeliness And Sanctify The Heart As A Sacrifice To Love; Love Recompenses The Adorers.

A Shy Failure Is Nobler Than An Immodest Success.