There Is Hope After Despair And Many

On The Path Of Love We Are Neither Masters Nor The Owners Of Our Lives. We Are Only A Brush In The Hand Of The Master Painter.

The Mirror Of The Heart Must Be Clear, So You Can Discern The Ugly From The Beautiful.

There Are A Thousand Ways To Kneel And Kiss The Ground; There Are A Thousand Ways To Go Home Again.

Do Not Grieve Over Any Joy That Has Gone Forever, For It Will Return To You In Another Form, Know That For Sure.

When You See The Setting, Wait For The Rising. Why Worry About A Sunset Or A Fading Moon?