As The Strings Of A Lute Are

Because The Soul Is Like A Flower That Folds Its Petals When Dark Comes, And Breathes Not Its Fragrance Into The Phantoms Of The Night.

When Love Beckons To You, Follow Him, Though His Ways Are Hard And Steep. And When His Wings Enfold You Yield To Him, Though The Sword Hidden Among His Pinions May Wound You.

Where Can I Find A Man Governed By Reason Instead Of Habits And Urges?

Wisdom Ceases To Be Wisdom When It Becomes Too Proud To Weep, Too Grave To Laugh, And Too Selfish To Seek Other Than Itself.

Out Of My Deeper Heart A Bird Rose And Flew Skywards. Higher And Higher Did It Rise, Yet Larger And Larger Did It Grow. At First It Was But Like A Swallow, Then A Lark, Then An Eagle, Then As Vast As A Spring Cloud, And Then It Filled The Starry Heavens. Out Of My Heart A Bird Flew Skywards. And It Waxed Larger As It Flew. Yet It Left Not My Heart.