The Return Makes One Love The Farewell.

The Life Of A Devotee Is A Crusade Of Which The Heart Is The Holy Land.

It Was One Of Those Somber Evenings When The Sighing Of The Wind Resembles The Moans Of A Dying Man; A Storm Was Brewing, And Between The Splashes Of Rain On The Windows There Was The Silence Of Death. All Nature Suffers In Such Moments; The Trees Writhe In Pain And Twist Their Heads; The Birds Of The Fields Cower Under The Bushes; The Streets Of Cities Are Deserted.

The Most Disagreeable Thing That Your Worst Enemy Says To Your Face Does Not Approach What Your Best Friends Say Behind Your Back.

Repartee Is Altogether A Natural Endowment, And Is The Lightning Of The Mind.

Become Corrupt, Corrupt, And You Will Cease To Suffer!" This Has Been The Cry Of All Cities To Man.