Category : A Collection of Games for DOS and Windows
Archive   : WISDOM.ZIP
Filename : FLOPPY3.DAT

ÿÿI?qPFPšå¼ ‹åIn farewells we heat0 above ordinary our 2affections to 3the things we forego1. 2A chord, stronger or0 weaker, is snapped 2asunder in every 3parting, and time's 1busy fingers are not2 practised in 3re-splicing broken t1ies. Meet again you2 may; will it be 3in the same way? 1In every parting the0re is an image of de2ath. 3Not until a person d0etaches himself from2 the creation 3will he be joined wi1th the Creator. 2Absence diminishes l0ittle passions and i2ncreases great ones,3as the wind extingui1shes candles and fan2s a fire. 3The absent are never0 without fault, 2nor the present with1out excuse. 2Friendship, like lov0e, is destroyed by l2ong absence, 3though it may be inc1reased by short inte2rmissions. 3Every parting is a f0orm of death, 2as every reunion is 1a type of heaven. 2Although you may rem0ain somewhere for a 2long time, 3It is certain that y1ou will have to leav2e; 3Whatever may be the 1manner of parting, 2The actual going can1not be avoided. 2All flowers will dro0op in absences of th2e sun that waked 3their sweets. 1But fate ordains tha0t dearest friends mu2st part. 3Sometimes, when one 0person is missing, t2he whole world seems3depopulated. 1The superior man, wh0en he stands alone, 2is unconcerned, 3And if he has to ren1ounce the world, he 2is undaunted. 3Greater things are b0elieved of those who2 are absent. 3Parting is such swee0t sorrow. 2Absence doth sharpen0 love, presence stre2ngthens it; the 3one brings fuel, the1 other blows it till2 it burns clear. 3Distance sometimes e0ndears friendship, a2nd absence 3sweeteneth it - for 1separation from thos2e we love shows us, 3by the loss, their r1eal value and dearne2ss to us. 3Let the wind of the 0spirit blow between 2your shores. The 3great oaks in the fo1rest do not grow in 2each other's shade. 3No suffering, no sor0row, no pain will be2fall the man who has3controlled his anger1, who has abandoned 2his pride, who is 3not attached to anyt1hing and who calls n2othing his own. 3But when he (man) sh0all have been taken 2from sight, 3he quickly goes also1 out of mind. 2Absence from those w0e love is self from 2self - 3a deadly banishment.1Absence is the death0 of love. 2Parting is worse tha0n death; it is death2 of love! 3Days of absence, sad0 and dreary, 2 Clothed in sorrow'1s dark array, 2Days of absence, I a1m weary; 2 She I love is far 1away. 2Absence in love is l0ike water upon fire;2a little quickens, b1ut much extinguishes2 it. 3For in that word, th0at fatal word, howev2er we promise, hope,3believe, there breat1hes despair. 2That bitter word, wh0ich closed all earth2ly friendships, 3and finished every f1east of love - Farew2ell! 3Great undertakings c0annot succeed during2 periods of division3and mutual alienatio1n. The superior man2 recognizes the 3circumstances, does 1not become impatient2, and sets about 3achieving gradual im1provements in small 2matters. 3Let no one be willin0g to speak ill of th2e absent. 3The logs of wood whi0ch move 2 down the river tog1ether 2Are driven apart by 1every wave. 2Such inevitable part1ing 2Should not be the ca1use of misery. 2Let us not be dainty0 of leave-taking, 2But shift away. 1Abruptness is an elo0quence in parting, w2hen spinning out 3the time is but the 1weaving of new sorro2w. 3Never part without l0oving words to think2 of during your 3absence. It may be 1that you will not me2et again in life. 3All the souls create0d by the activity of2 God were originally3one, the male and fe1male portions of the2m not yet separated,3existing in conjugal1 bliss. When they f2irst begin their 3journey to the Below1 on this earth they 2do so as male and 3female together. On1ce arrived, they bec2ome separated...A 3man may only find hi1s other half by walk2ing in the way of 3truth. Only then ma1y he have a chance a2t completion. 3Here we part. 0The solitary sail wi1ll attempt a flight 2of a thousand miles,3The flowing clouds a1re the dreams of a w2andering son, 3The setting sun, the1 affection of an old2 friend. 3So you go, waving yo1ur hands. 2What! gone without 0a word? ay, so true2 love should do; 3it cannot speak, for1 truth hath better d2eeds, than words, 3to grace it. 1How like a winter ha0th my absence been 2 From thee, the ple1asure of the fleetin2g year! 3What freezings have 1I felt, what dark da2ys seen! 3 What old December'1s bareness everywher2e. 3Ever absent, ever ne0ar; 2Still I see thee, st1ill I hear; 2Yet I cannot reach t1hee, dear! 2Fare thee well! and 0if for ever, 2Still for ever, fare1 thee well. 2When we two parted i0n silence and tears,2Half broken-hearted 1to sever for years, 2Pale grew thy cheek 1and cold, Colder thy2 kiss; 3Truly that hour fore1told sorrow to this!2Oh hast thou forgott0en this day we must 2part? 3It may be for years 1and it may be foreve2r; 3Oh why art thou sile1nt, thou voice of my2 heart? 3Distance - the only 0thing the rich are w2illing for the poor 3to call theirs, and 1keep. 2She went her unremem0bering way, 2 She went and left 1in me 2The pang of all the 1partings gone, 2 And partings yet t1o be. 2Everything in excess0 is opposed to natur2e. 3A physician is nothi0ng but a consoler of2 the mind. 3The art of medicine 0consists of amusing 2the patient while 3nature cures the dis1ease. 2Madness is to think 0of too many things i2n succession too 3fast, or of one thin1g too exclusively. 2Disease is the retri0bution of outraged N2ature. 3Disease is an experi0ence of so-called mo2rtal mind. 3It is fear made mani1fest on the body. 2Physicians are many 0in title but very fe2w in reality. 3Excess generally cau0ses reaction and pro2duces a change in 3the opposite directi1on, whether it be in2 the seasons, 3or in individuals, o1r in government. 2Men worry over the g0reat number of disea2ses, while doctors 3worry over the scarc1ity of effective rem2edies. 3Some remedies are wo0rse than the disease2. 3By medicine life may0 be prolonged, yet d2eath 3Will seize the docto1r too. 2The madman who knows0 that he is mad is c2lose to sanity. 3He who cures a disea0se may be the skillf2ullest, 3but he that prevents1 it is the safest ph2ysician. 3Great wits are sure 0to madness near alli2ed 3And thin partitions 1do their bounds divi2de. 3Medicine is a scienc0e of uncertainty 2and an art of probab1ility. 2Before thirty, men s0eek disease; 2after thirty, diseas1e seeks men. 2Misdirected life for0ce is the activity i2n disease process. 3Disease has no energ1y save what it borro2ws from the life 3of the organism. It1 is by adjusting the2 life force that 3healing must be brou1ght about, and it is2 the sun as 3transformer and dist1ributor of primal sp2iritual energy 3that must be utilize1d in this process, f2or life and the 3sun are so intimatel1y connected. 2To know that you do 0not know is the best2. 3To pretend to know w1hen you do not know 2is a disease. 3Only when one recogn1izes this disease as2 a disease 3Can one be free from1 the disease. 2The sage is free fro1m the disease. 2Because he recognize1d this disease to be2 disease, 3He is free from it. 1Medicine is an art, 0and attends to the n2ature and 3constitution of the 1patient, and has pri2nciples of action 3and reason in each c1ase. 2Most men are within 0a finger's breadth o2f being mad. 3Sickness seizes the 0body from bad ventil2ation. 3Medicine is not only0 a science; it is al2so an art. It does 3not consist of compo1unding pills and pla2sters; it deals 3with the very proces1ses of life, which m2ust be understood 3before they may be g1uided. 2The poets did well t0o conjoin music and 2medicine, because 3the office of medici1ne is but to tune th2e curious harp of 3man's body. 1In sickness the soul0 begins to dress her2self for 3immortality. And fi1rst she unties the s2trings of vanity 3that make her upper 1garments cleave to t2he world and 3sit uneasy. 1As long as men are l0iable to die and are2 desirous to live, 3a physician will be 1made fun of, but he 2will be well paid. 3The canker which the0 trunk conceals is r2evealed by the 3leaves, the fruit, o1r the flower. 2He's the best physic0ian that knows the w2orthlessness of the 3most medicines. 1It is with disease o0f the mind, as with 2those of the body; 3we are half dead bef1ore we understand ou2r disorder, 3and half cured when 1we do. 2There can be no exce0ss to love, none to 2knowledge, none to 3beauty, when these a1ttributes are consid2ered in the purest 3sense. 1A bodily disease whi0ch we look upon as w2hole and entire 3within itself, may, 1after all, be but a 2symptom of some 3ailment in the spiri1tual part. 2To array a man's wil0l against his sickne2ss is the supreme 3art of medicine. 1Variability is the l0aw of life, and as n2o two faces are the 3same, so no two bodi1es are alike, and no2 two individuals 3react alike and beha1ve alike under the a2bnormal conditions 3which we know as dis1ease. 2The superior doctor 0prevents sickness; 2The mediocre doctor 1attends to impending2 sickness; 3The inferior doctor 1treats actual sickne2ss; 3One gets into situat0ions in life from wh2ich it is necessary 3to be a little mad t1o extricate oneself 2successfully. 3The feeling of healt0h is acquired only t2hrough sickness. 3I have learned much 0from disease which l2ife could have never3taught me anywhere e1lse. 2It is in sickness th0at we most feel the 2need of that 3sympathy which shows1 how much we are dep2endent upon 3one another for our 1comfort, and even ne2cessities. Thus 3disease, opening our1 eyes to the realiti2es of life, is an 3indirect blessing. 1A little madness in 0the Spring 2Is wholesome even fo1r the King. 2I reckon being ill a0s one of the great p2leasures of life, 3provided one is not 1too ill and is not o2bliged to work 3till one is better. 1We cannot employ the0 mind to advantage w2hen we are filled 3with excessive food 1and drink. 2The body oppressed b0y excesses, bears do2wn the mind, and 3depresses to the ear1th any portion of th2e divine Spirit 3we had been endowed 1with. 2All actions beyond t0he ordinary limits a2re subject to a 3sinister interpretat1ion. 2Too much noise deafe0ns us; too much ligh2t blinds us; too 3great a distance, or1 too much of proximi2ty equally prevents 3us from being able t1o see; too long or t2oo short a discourse3obscures our knowled1ge of a subject; too2 much of truth 3stuns us. 1Doctors prescribe me0dicine of which they2 know little 3to cure diseases of 1which they know less2in human beings of w1hich they know nothi2ng. 3The mental disease o0f the present genera2tion is impatience 3of study, contempt o1f the great masters 2of ancient wisdom, 3and a disposition to1 rely wholly upon un2assisted genius and 3natural sagacity. 1That dire disease, w0hose ruthless power 2Withers the beauty's1 transient flower. 2The excesses of our 0youth are drafts upo2n our old age, 3payable with interes1t, about thirty year2s after the date. 3Gluttony is the sour0ce of all our infirm2ities and the 3fountain of all our 1diseases. As a lamp2 is choked by a 3superabundance of oi1l, and a fire exting2uished by excess 3of fuel, so is the n1atural health of the2 body destroyed 3by intemperate diet.1Excess always carrie0s its own retributio2n. 3In individuals, insa0nity is rare, but in2 groups, parties, 3nations and epochs i1t is the rule. 2The modern sympathy 0with invalids is mor2bid. Illness of any3kind is hardly a thi1ng to be encouraged 2in others. 3For three things the0re is no remedy: 2 Poverty associated 1with laziness, 2 sickness coupled 1with old age, 2 and enmity mixed1 with envy. 2This I consider to b0e a valuable princip2le in life: 3 Do no thing in exc1ess. 2The best medicine is0 the abandonment of 2desires. 3Prevention is better0 than cure. 2Once a disease has e0ntered the body, all2 parts which are 3healthy must fight i1t: not one alone, b2ut all. Because a 3disease might mean t1heir common death. 2Nature knows this; 3and Nature attacks t1he disease with what2ever help she can 3muster. 1Against diseases her0e the strongest fenc2e, 3Is the defensive vir1tue, abstinence. 2The best of all medi0cines are rest and f2asting. 3Sickness is a belief0, which must be anni2hilated by the 3divine Mind. 1Nine-tenths of our s0ickness can be preve2nted by right 3thinking plus right 1hygiene - nine-tenth2s of it! 3To stop drinking... 0Study a drunkard whi1le you are sober. 2Among creatures some0 lead and some follo2w. 3Some blow hot and so1me blow cold. 2Some are strong and 1some are weak. 2Some may break and s1ome may fall. 2Therefore the sage d1iscards the extremes2, 3 the extravagant, a1nd the excessive. 2Extreme remedies are0 very appropriate fo2r extreme diseases. 3Lately was Diaulus a0 doctor, now he is a2n undertaker, 3What the undertaker 1now does the doctor 2too did before. 3Better to hunt in fi0elds for health unbo2ught, 3Than fee the doctor 1for a nauseous draug2ht. 3The wise for cure on1 exercise depend; 2God never made his w1ork for man to mend.2Tell your doctor, th0at y'are ill 2And what does he, bu1t write a bill, 2Of which you need no1t read one letter, 2The worse the scrawl1, the dose the bette2r. 3For if you knew but 1what you take, 2Though you recover, 1he must break. 2"Is there no hope?" 0the sick man said, 2The silent doctor sh1ook his head, 2And took his leave w1ith signs of sorrow,2Despairing of his fe1e to-morrow. 2But nothing is more 0estimable than a phy2sician who, having 3studied nature from 1his youth, knows the2 properties of the 3human body, the dise1ases which assail it2, the remedies which3will benefit it, exe1rcises his art with 2caution, and pays 3equal attention to t1he rich and the poor2. 3I know of nothing mo0re laughable than a 2doctor who does not 3die of old age. 1God heals, and the d0octor takes the fee.2The best doctor is t0he one you run for a2nd can't find. 3But when ill indeed,0Even dismissing the 1doctor don't always 2succeed. 3Physicians mend or e0nd us; 2but though in health1 we sneer, 2when sick we call th1em to attend us, 2without the least pr1opensity to jeer. 2Some maladies are ri0ch and precious and 2only to be 3acquired by the righ1t of inheritance or 2purchased 3with gold. 1The universal medici0ne for the Soul is t2he Supreme Reason 3and Absolute Justice1; for the mind, math2ematical and 3practical Truth; for1 the body, the Quint2essence, a 3combination of light1 and gold. 2Today I felt pass ov0er me 2A breath of wind fro1m the wings of madne2ss. 3Physician - One upon0 whom we set our hop2es when ill and 3our dogs when well. 1If the doctor cures,0 the sun see it; 2but if he kills, the1 earth hides it. 2Sleep, the brother o0f death. 2Dreams are the wande0rings of the spirit 2though all nine 3heavens and all nine1 earths. 2We are such stuff 0 As dreams are made1 of, 2And our little life 1 Is rounded with a 1sleep. 2All that we see or s0eem 2Is but a dream withi1n a dream. 2Dreams are the touch0stones of our charac2ters. 3Even as a great fish0 swims along the two2 banks of a river, 3first along the east1ern bank and then th2e western bank, in 3the same way the Spi1rit of man moves alo2ng beside his two 3dwellings: this wak1ing world and the la2nd of sleep and 3dreams. 1The vigorous are no 0better than the lazy2 during one half of 3life, for all men ar1e alike when asleep.2He sleeps well who k0nows not that he sle2eps ill. 3Weariness can snore 0upon the flint, 2when resty sloth fin1ds the down pillow h2ard. 3Two gates the silent0 house of Sleep ador2n; 3Of polished ivory th1is, that of transpar2ent horn: 3True visions through1 transparent horn ar2ise; 3Through polished ivo1ry pass deluding lie2s. 3The bed is a bundle 0of paradoxes: 2we go to it with rel1uctance, yet we quit2 it with regret; 3we make up our minds1 every night to leav2e it early, 3but we make up our b1odies every morning 2to keep it late. 3Our life is two fold0: Sleep hath its ow2n world, 3A boundary between t1he things misnamed 2Death and existence:1 Sleep hath its own2 world, 3And a wide realm of 1wild reality. 2Sleep - Death withou0t dying - living, bu2t not life. 3I dreamed a thousand0 new paths... 2I woke and walked my1 old one. 2In dreams the mind b0eholds its own immen2sity. What has been3seen is seen again, 1and what has been he2ard is heard again. 3What has been felt i1n different places o2r faraway regions 3returns to the mind 1again. Seen and uns2een, heard and 3unheard, felt and no1t felt, the mind see2s all, since the 3mind is all. 1A dream which is not0 interpreted 2is like a letter whi1ch is not read. 2Sleep and deep repos0e, most like indeed 2to death's own 3quietness. 1Time, motion and win0e cause sleep. 2The eye sees a thing0 more clearly in dre2ams 3than the imagination1 when awake. 2Dreams are the true 0Interpreters of our 2Inclinations; 3but there is Art req1uired to sort and un2derstand them. 3Creation sleeps. 'T0is as the general pu2lse 3Of life stood still,1 and nature made a p2ause. 3On every mountain he0ight 2Is rest. 1Sleep, riches, and h0ealth, are only trul2y enjoyed after they3have been interrupte1d. 2Dreaming is an act o0f pure imagination, 2attesting in all 3men a creative power1, which, if it were 2available in waking,3would make every man1 a genius. 2Our dreams are as re0al, while they last,2 as the occurrences 3of the daytime. We 1see, hear, feel, act2, experience 3pleasure and suffer 1pain, as vividly and2 actually in a 3dream as when awake.1 The occurrences an2d transactions of a 3year are crowded int1o the limits of a se2cond: and the dream3remembered is as rea1l as the past occurr2ences of life. 3Without a doubt, con0sciousness originall2y arises out of the 3unconscious...It is 1essential that nothi2ng be taken away 3from the reality of 1the unconscious and 2that the figures of 3the unconscious shou1ld be understood as 2active qualities. 3The real man lies in0 the depths of the s2ubconscious. 3Dreams - A microscop0e through which we l2ook at the hidden 3occurrences in our s1oul. 2...In dream consciou0sness...we make thin2gs happen by wishing3them, because we are1 not only the observ2or of what we 3experience but also 1the creator. In our2 creativity we 3prolong the magic ac1tion of the Creator 2of All in the 3overflow of His imag1ination, which is al2l that reality is, 3or ever will be. 1The sleep of the bod0y is the sober watch2fulness of the 3mind and the shuttin1g of my eyes reveals2 the true Light. 3There is a Spirit wh0o is awake in our sl2eep and creates the 3wonder of dreams. H1e is the Spirit of L2ight, who in truth 3is called the Immort1al. All the worlds 2rest on that Spirit 3and beyond him no on1e can go. 2When the soul is in 0the land of dreams, 2then all the worlds 3belong to the soul. 1 A man can be a grea2t king or even a 3wise man and live in1 conditions high or 2low. Even as a 3great king takes his1 attendants as he go2es about his 3dominions, so the so1ul of man takes the 2powers of life with 3him as he wanders in1 the land of dreams.2The sleep of a labou0ring man is sweet. 2O, what is more swee0t than when the mind2, set free fom care,3lays its burden down1; and when spent wit2h distant travel, 3we come back to our 1home, and rest our l2imbs on the 3wished-for bed? Thi1s, this alone, repay2s such toils as 3these! 1Sleep, rest of natur0e, O sleep, most gen2tle of the 3divinities, peace of1 the soul, thou at w2hose presence care 3disappears, who soot1hest hearts wearied 2with daily 3employments, and mak1est them strong agai2n for labour! 3Blest be...sleep - a0 cloak to cover all 2human imaginings, 3food to satisfy hung1er, water to quench 2thirst, fire to warm3cold air, cold to te1mper heat, and, last2ly, a coin to buy 3whatever we need. 1Come, Sleep: O Slee0p! the certain knot2 of peace, 3The baiting place of1 wit, the balm of wo2e, 3The poor man's wealt1h, the prisoner's re2lease, 3The indifferent judg1e between the high a2nd low. 3Sleep that knits up 0the ravelled sleeve 2of care, 3The death of each da1y's life, sore labou2r's bath, 3Balm of hurt minds, 1great nature's secon2d course, 3Chief nourisher in l1ife's feast. 2Sleep is pain's easi0est salve, and doth 2fulfill all offices 3of death, except to 1kill. 2Sleep is that golden0 chain that ties hea2lth and our bodies 3together. 1For morning dreams, 0as poets tell, are t2rue. 3The long sleep of de0ath closes our scars2, 3and the short sleep 1of life our wounds. 2Sleep is the half of1 time which heals us2. 3The half hour betwee0n waking and rising 2has all my life 3proved propitious to1 any task which was 2exercising my 3invention...It was a1lways when I first o2pened my eyes that 3the desired ideas th1ronged upon me. 2Sleep, to the homele0ss thou art home; 2the friendless find 1in thee a friend. 2It is a delicious mo0ment, certainly, tha2t of being well 3nestled in bed, and 1feeling that you sha2ll drop gently to 3sleep. The good is 1to come, not past...2Dreams are excursion0s into the limbo of 2things, 3a semi-deliverance f1rom the human prison2. 3There is more refres0hment and stimulatio2n in a nap, even of 3the briefest, than i1n all the alcohol ev2er distilled. 3How long will you li0e there, O sluggard?2 When will you aris1e from your sleep? 2A little sleep, a li1ttle slumber, 2 a little folding o1f the hands to rest,2and poverty will com1e upon you like a va2gabond, 3 and want like an a1rmed man. 2Too much rest itself0 becomes a pain. 2Fool, what is sleep 0but the likeness of 2icy death? 3The fates shall give1 us a long period of2 rest. 3Dreams are mere prod0uctions of the brain2, 3And fools consult in1terpreters in vain. 2What probing deep 0Has ever solved the 1mystery of sleep? 2Obviously one must h0old oneself responsi2ble for the evil 3impulses of one's dr1eams. In what other2 way can one deal 3with them? Unless t1he content of the dr2eam rightly 3understood is inspir1ed by alien spirits,2 it is part of my 3own being. 1Sleep is perverse as0 human nature, 2Sleep is perverse as1 a legislature, 2Sleep is as forward 1as hives or goiters,2And where it is leas1t desired, it loiter2s. 3One should rest when0 it is time to rest 2and act when it is 3time to act. True r1esting and putting t2o rest are attained 3through the disappea1rance of the ego, wh2ich leads to the 3harmony of one's beh1avior with the laws 2of the universe. 3Resting in principle1 involves doing that2 which is right 3in every position in1 which one is placed2. 3Take rest; a field t0hat has rested gives2 a bountiful crop. 3A man who values a g0ood night's rest wil2l not lie down with 3enmity in his heart,1 if he can help it. 2Sleep is the interes0t we have to pay on 2the capital which is3called in at death; 1and the higher the r2ate of interest and 3the more regularly i1t is paid, the furth2er the date of 3redemption is postpo1ned. 2We cannot always sec0ure sleep. When imp2ortant decisions 3have to be taken, th1e natural anxiety to2 come to a right 3decision will often 1keep us awake. Noth2ing, however, is 3more conducive to he1althy sleep than ple2nty of open air. 3It takes a person wh0o is wide awake to m2ake his dream come 3true. 1Try to enjoy the sle0epless sleep wherein2 all the senses and 3mind remain in a sta1te of quietude and t2he intellect ceases 3functioning. The sl1eepless sleep is a s2uper-conscious 3state. It is perfec1t awareness wherein 2the individual soul 3has merged itself in1to the Supreme Soul.2 There is no waking3from this sleep. 1When a man is asleep0 his soul takes the 2consciousness of the3several senses and g1oes to rest with the2m on the Supreme 3Spirit who is in the1 human heart. When 2all the senses are 3quiet the man is sai1d to be asleep. The2 soul holds the 3powers of life - bre1ath, voice, eye, ear2, and mind - and 3they rest in quietne1ss. 2The eye of man hath 0not heard, the ear o2f man hath not seen,3man's hand is not ab1le to taste, his ton2gue to conceive, 3nor his heart to rep1ort, what my dream w2as. 3Sleep is a death, O 0make me try, 2By sleeping, what it1 is to die: 2And as gently lay my1 head 2On my grave, as now 1my bed. 2Dreams are but inter0ludes, which fancy m2akes; 3When monarch reason 1sleeps, this mimic w2akes. 3To all, to each, a f0air good-night, 2And pleasing dreams,1 and slumbers light.2Visit her, gentle Sl0eep! with wings of 2healing, 3And may this storm b1e but a mountain-bir2th, 3May all the stars ha1ng bright above her 2dwelling, 3Silent as though the1y watched the sleepi2ng Earth! 3O magic sleep! O co0mfortable bird, 2That broodest o'er t1he troubled sea of t2he mind 3Till it is hush'd an1d smooth! O unconfi2ned 3Restraint! imprisone1d liberty! great key2To golden palaces. 1Deep into that darkn0ess peering, long I 2stood there 3 wondering, fearing,1Doubting, dreaming d1reams no mortal ever2 dared 3 to dream before. 1So nature deals with0 us, and takes away 2 Our playthings one1 by one, and be the 2hand 3 Leads us to rest1 so gently, that we 2go, 3Scarce knowing if we1 wish to go or stay,2 Being too full of 1sleep to understand 2 How far the unkn1own transcends the w2hat we know. 3When to soft Sleep w0e give ourselves awa2y, 3And in a dream as in1 a fairy bark 2Drift on and on thro1ugh the enchanted da2rk 3To purple daybreak -1 little thought we p2ay 3To that sweet bitter1 world we know by da2y. 3All gifts but one th0e jealous God may ke2ep 3From our soul's long1ing, one he cannot -2 sleep. 3This, though he grud1ge all other grace t2o prayer, 3This grace his close1d hand cannot choose2 but spare. 3We are the music mak0ers, 2 We are the dreamer1s of dreams, 2Wandering by lone se1a-breakers, 2 And sitting by des1olate streams- 2World-losers and wor1ld-forsakers. 2 On whom the pale m1oon gleams. 2The chambers in the 0house of dreams 2 Are fed with so di1vine an air, 2That Time's hoary wi1ngs grow young there2in, 3 And they who walk 1there are most fair.2A thousand creeds an0d battle cries, 2 A thousand warring1 social schemes, 2A thousand new moral1ities 2 And twenty thousan1d, thousand dreams. 2If, my dear, you see0k to slumber, 2Count of stars an en1dless number; 2If you still continu1e wakeful, 2Count the drops that1 make a lakeful; 2Then, if vigilance y1et above you 2Hover, count the tim1es I love you; 2And if slumber still1 repel you, 2Count the times I do1 not tell you. 2Sleep lay upon the w0ilderness, it lay ac2ross the faces of 3nations, it lay like1 silence on the hear2ts of sleeping men; 3and low upon lowland1s and high upon hill2s, flowed gently 3sleep, smooth-slidin1g sleep - sleep - sl2eep. 3Tears are the noble 0language of the eye.2Tears are the silent0 language of grief. 2Melancholy is the pl0easure of being sad.2Sorrow is a form of 0self-pity. 2As joy is not withou0t its alloy of pain,2so neither is sorrow1 without its portion2 of pleasure. 3Let no man ever clea0ve to things that ar2e pleasant 3 or to those that a1re unpleasant. 2Not to see what is p1leasant is pain, 2 and it is pain to 1see what is unpleasa2nt. 3The sorrowful dislik0e the gay, and the g2ay the sorrowful. 3Our days and nights 0Have sorrows woven w1ith delights. 2Moderate lamentation0 is the right of the2 dead; 3excessive grief the 1enemy of the living.2If our inward griefs0 were seen written o2n our brow, 3how many would be pi1tied who are now env2ied! 3Sorrow never comes t0oo late, 2And happiness too sw1iftly flies. 2Alas! sorrow from h0appiness is oft evol2ved. 3Grief is a stone tha0t bears one down, 2but two bear it ligh1tly. 2We weep when we are 0born, 2Not when we die! 1What is the source o0f sadness, but feebl2eness of the mind? 3what giveth it power1 but the want of rea2son? Rouse thyself 3to the combat, and s1he quitteth the fiel2d before thou 3strikest. 1Grief, like a tree, 0has tears for its fr2uit. 3'All is transient.' 0 When one sees this,2 he is above sorrow.3 This is the clear 1path. 2'All is sorrow.' Wh1en one sees this, he2 is above sorrow. 3 This is the clear 1path. 2'All is unreal.' Wh1en one sees this he 2is above sorrow. 3 This is the clear 1path. 2No grief is so acute0 but that time ameli2orates it. 3Tears are sometimes 0as weighty as words.2That grief is light 0which can take couns2el. 3For a man who is con0tented with little, 2Wealth is inexhausti1ble. 2He who continually s1eeks and is never sa2tisfied 3Will experience a co1nstant rain of sorro2w. 3Our sorrows are like0 thunder-clouds, whi2ch seem black in 3the distance, but gr1ow lighter as they a2pproach. 3We pamper little gri0efs into great ones,2and bear great ones 1as well as we can. 2Earth hath no sorrow0 that heaven cannot 2heal. 3In youth, grief come0s with a rush and ov2erflow, 3but it dries up, too1, like a torrent. 2In the winter of lif1e it remains a miser2able pool, 3resisting all evapor1ation. 2They truly mourn tha0t mourn without a wi2tness. 3There are people who0 have an appetite fo2r grief; 3pleasure is not stro1ng enough and they c2rave pain. 3Of all the portions 0of life it is in the2 two twilights, 3childhood and age, t1hat tears fall with 2the most 3frequency; like the 1dew at dawn and eve.2Reflection is the bu0siness of man; a sen2se of his state is 3his first duty: but1 who remembereth him2self in joy? 3Is it not in mercy t1hen that sorrow is a2llotted unto us? 3There is something p0leasurable in calm r2emembrance of a past3sorrow. 1The liquid drops of 0tears that you have 2shed 3Shall come again, tr1ansform'd to orient 2pearl, 3Advantaging their lo1an with interest 2Of ten times double 1gain of happiness. 2The path of sorrow, 0and that path alone,2leads to the land wh1ere sorrow is unknow2n; 3no traveller ever re1ached that blessed a2bode 3who found not thorns1 and briars in his r2oad. 3Sorrow seems sent fo0r our instruction, a2s we darken the 3cages of birds when 1we would teach them 2to sing. 3Tears are the soften0ing showers which ca2use the seed of 3heaven to spring up 1in the human heart. 2Tears hinder sorrow 0from becoming despai2r. 3So bright the tear i0n Beauty's eye, 2Love half regrets to1 kiss it dry. 2Grief knits two hear0ts in closer bonds t2han happiness ever 3can; and common suff1erings are far stron2ger links than 3common joys. 1Man's unhappiness co0mes of his greatness2; it is because 3there is an infinite1 in him, which, with2 all his cunning, 3he cannot quite bury1 under the finite. 2There is a joy in so0rrow which none but 2a mourner can know. 3Night brings out sta0rs as sorrow shows u2s truths. 3The soul would have 0no rainbow had the e2yes no tears. 3Be not deceived with0 fair pretences, nor2 suppose that sorrow3healeth misfortune. 1 It is a poison unde2r the colour of a 3remedy; while it pre1tendeth to draw the 2arrow from thy 3breast, lo, it plung1eth it into thine he2art. 3Grief tears his hear0t, and drives him to2 and fro, 3In all the raging im1potence of woe. 2Excess of grief for 0the deceased is madn2ess; for it is an 3injury to the living1, and the dead know 2it not. 3Suppressed grief suf0focates, it rages wi2thin the breast, 3and is forced to mul1tiply its strength. 2Great grief does not0 of itself put an en2d to itself. 3There is no greater 0grief than to rememb2er days of joy when 3misery is at hand. 1Short time seems lon0g in sorrow's sharp 2sustaining; 3though woe be heavy,1 yet it seldom sleep2s, 3and they who watch, 1see time how slow it2 creeps. 3The most unhappy of 0all men is he who be2lieves himself 3to be so. 1The person who griev0es suffers his passi2on to grow upon him;3he indulges it, he l1oves it; but this ne2ver happens in the 3case of actual pain,1 which no man ever w2illingly endured for3any considerable tim1e. 2It is dangerous to a0bandon one's self to2 the luxury of 3grief; it deprives o1ne of courage and ev2en of the wish 3for recovery. 1Two barrels of tears0 do not heal a bruis2e. 3Grief is natural to 0the mortal world, an2d is always about 3thee; pleasure is a 1guest, and visiteth 2thee but by thy 3invitation; use well1 thy mind, and sorro2w shall be passed 3behind thee; be prud1ent, and the visits 2of joy shall remain 3long with thee. 1Do not vainly lament0, but do wonder at t2he rule of 3transiency and learn1 from it the emptine2ss of human 3life. Do not cheris1h to unworthy desire2 that the 3changeable might bec1ome unchanging. 2We should feel sorro0w, but not sink unde2r its oppression. 3It is some relief to0 weep; 2grief is satisfied a1nd carried off by te2ars. 3If you wish to live 0a life free from sor2row, think of what 3is going to happen a1s if it had already 2happened. 3Past sorrows, let us0 moderately lament t2hem; 3For those to come, s1eek wisely to preven2t them. 3Sorrow's best antido0te is employment. 2Hide not thy tears; 0weep boldly, and be 2proud to give the 3flowing virtue manly1 way; it is nature's2 mark to know an 3honest heart by. 1Sorrow is a kind of 0rust of the soul whi2ch every new idea 3contributes in its p1assage to scour away2. It is the 3putrefaction of stag1nant life, and is re2medied by exercise 3and motion. 1If grief is to be mi0tigated, it must eit2her wear itself out 3or be shared. 1If you are melanchol0y for the first time2, 3you will find, upon 1a little inquiry, 2that others have bee1n melancholy many ti2mes, 3and yet are cheerful1 now. 2Be still, sad heart!0 and cease repining2; 3Behind the clouds is1 the sun still shini2ng; 3Thy fate is the comm1on fate of all, 2Into each life some 1rain must fall, 2Some days must be da1rk and dreary. 2Sadness is not an ev0il. Complain not; w2hat seem to be 3sufferings and obsta1cles are often in re2ality the mysterious3efforts of nature to1 help you in your wo2rk if you can manage3them properly. Look1 upon all circumstan2ces with the 3gratitude of a pupil1. All complaint is 2a rebellion against 3the law of progress.1Sorrow is invited fr0equently, pleasure r2arely; pain cometh 3of itself, delight m1ust be purchased; gr2ief is unmixed, but 3joy wanteth not its 1alloy of bitterness.2 As the soundest 3health is less perce1ived than the lighte2st malady, so the 3highest joy toucheth1 us less deep than t2he smallest sorrow. 3The deeper the sorro0w the less tongue it2 hath. 3All created beings a0re unmanifest in the2ir beginning, 3manifest in their in1terim state, and unm2anifest again 3when they are annihi1lated. So what need2 is there for 3lamentation? 1Nothing dries sooner0 than a tear. 2When sorrows come, t0hey come not single 2spies, 3But in battalions. 1Weep no more, nor si0gh, nor groan, 2Sorrow calls no time1 that's gone: 2Violets plucked the 1sweetest rain 2Makes not fresh nor 1grow again. 2Words that weep and 0tears that speak. 2Man alone is born cr0ying, lives complain2ing, and dies 3disappointed. 1The storm of grief b0ears hard upon his y2outh, 3And bends him like a1 drooping flower to 2earth. 3Child of mortality, 0whence comest thou? 2 Why is thy 3countenance sad, and1 why are thine eyes 2red with weeping? 3Who never ate his br0ead in sorrow, 2 Who never spent th1e darksome hours 2Weeping, and watchin1g for the morrow,- 2 He knows ye not, y1e gloomy Powers. 2Sorrows gather aroun0d great souls as sto2rms do around 3mountains; but, like1 them, they break th2e storm and 3purify the air of th1e plain beneath them2. 3Day-thoughts feed ni0ghtly dreams; 2And sorrow tracketh 1wrong, 2As echo follows song1. 2Two aged men, that h0ad been foes for lif2e, 3 Met by a grave, an1d wept - and in thos2e tears 3They washed away the1 memory of their str2ife; 3 Then wept again th1e loss of all those 2years. 3Tears, idle tears, I0 know not what they 2mean, 3Tears from the depth1s of some divine des2pair. 3Tell me, ye winged w0inds 2 That round my path1way roar, 2Know ye not some spo1t 2 Where mortals weep1 no more? 2When I was young, I 0said to Sorrow, 2"Come and I will pla1y with thee!" 2He is near me now al1l day, 2And at night returns1 to say, 2"I will come again t1o-morrow, 2I will come and stay1 with thee." 2A feeling of sadness0 and longing, that i2s not akin to pain, 3and resembles sorrow1 only as the mist re2sembles the rain. 3Each time we love, 0We turn nearer and a1 broader mark 2To that keen archer,1 Sorrow, and he stri2kes. 3Never a tear bedims 0the eye 2That time and patien1ce will not dry. 2The Soul is made of 0consciousness and mi2nd; it is made of 3life and vision. It1 is made of the eart2h and the waters; it3is made of air and s1pace. It is made of2 light and darkness;3it is made of desire1 and peace. It is m2ade of anger and 3love; it is made of 1virtue and vice. It2 is made of all that3is near; it is made 1of all that is afar.2 It is made of all.3Soul - Something in 0us that can be witho2ut us and will be 3after us. 1Vital spark of heav'0nly flame! 2Everything here, but0 the soul of man, is2 a passing shadow. 3The only enduring su1bstance is within. 2The production of so0uls is the secret of2 unfathomable 3depth. 1Spirit is living, an0d Life is Spirit, an2d Life and Spirit 3produce all things, 1but they are essenti2ally one and not 3two... 1Doth not the sun har0den the clay? Doth 2it not also soften 3the wax? As it is o1ne sun that worketh 2both, even so it is 3one Soul that willet1h contrarieties. 2The disembodied spir0it is immortal; ther2e is nothing of it 3that can grow old or1 die. But the embod2ied spirit sees 3death on the horizon1 as soon as its day 2dawns. 3The all knowing Self0 was never born, nor2 will it die. 3Beyond cause and eff1ect, this self is et2ernal and immutable.3When the body dies, 1the Self does not di2e. 3If the slayer believ1es that he can kill,2And the slain believ1es that he can be ki2lled, 3Neither knows the tr1uth. 2The eternal Self sla1ys not, nor is ever 2slain. 3Just as the soul fil0ls the body, so God 2fills the world. 3Just as the soul bea1rs the body, so God 2endures the world. 3Just as the soul see1s but is not seen, 2 so God sees but is1 not seen. 2Just as the soul fee1ds the body, 2 so God gives food 1to the world. 2I am the resurrectio0n and the life; 2he who believes in m1e, though he die, ye2t shall he live, 3and whoever lives an1d believes in me sha2ll never die. 3What springs from ea0rth dissolves to ear2th again, 3and heaven-born thin1gs fly to their nati2ve seat. 3The soul is created 0in a place between T2ime and Eternity: 3with its highest pow1ers it touches Etern2ity, 3with its lower Time.1There is nothing str0ictly immortal, but 2immortality. 3Whatever hath no beg1inning may be confid2ent of no end. 3Can it be? matter i0mmortal? and shall s2pirit die? 3above the nobler, sh1all less nobler rise2? 3shall man alone, for1 whom all else reviv2es, 3no resurrection know1? shall man alone, 2imperial man! be so1wn in barren ground,2less privileged than1 grain, on which he 2feeds? 3Everywhere the human0 soul stands between2 a hemisphere of 3light and another of1 darkness; on the co2nfines of two 3everlasting hostile 1empires, Necessity a2nd Freewill. 3From the doctrine of0 the two Principles,2 Active and Passive,3grew that of the Uni1verse, animated by a2 Principle of 3Eternal Life, and by1 a Universal Soul, f2rom which every 3isolated and tempora1ry being received at2 its birth an 3emanation, which, at1 the death of such b2eing, returned to 3its source. 1Spirit is the real a0nd eternal; 2matter is unreal and1 material. 2For I never have see0n, and never shall s2ee, 3that the cessation o1f the evidence of ex2istence 3is necessarily evide1nce of the cessation2 of existence. 3The Soul is born old0, but it grows young2; 3 that is the comedy1 of life. 2The Body is born you1ng and grows old; 2 that is life's tra1gedy. 2The Seer is the unch0anging, non-dual uni2ty or Soul. 3The seen is the chan1ging, visible univer2se and the mind. 3Spirit is the first 0differentiation of S2PACE; and Matter 3the first differenti1ation of Spirit. Th2at, which is neither3Spirit nor matter -t1hat is IT- the Cause2less CAUSE of Spirit3and Matter, which ar1e the Cause of Kosmo2s. And THAT we call3the ONE LIFE or the 1Intra-Cosmic Breath.2Something is added t0o thee unlike to wha2t thou seest; some- 3thing animates thy c1lay higher than all 2that is the object 3of thy senses. Beho1ld, what is it? Thy2 body remaineth 3perfect matter after1 IT is fled, therefo2re IT is no part of 3it; IT is immaterial1, therefore IT is et2ernal: IT is free 3to act; therefore IT1 is accountable for 2its actions. 3The Spirit, without 0moving, is swifter t2han the mind; 3the senses cannot re1ach him: He is ever2 beyond them. 3Standing still, he o1vertakes those who r2un. To the ocean of3his being, the spiri1t of life leads the 2streams of action. 3As the same fire ass0umes different shape2s 3When it consumes obj1ects differing in sh2ape, 3So does the one Self1 take the shape 2Of every creature in1 whom he is present.2'Tis true; 'tis cert0ain; man though dead2 retains 3Part of himself; the1 immortal mind remai2ns. 3All men's souls are 0immortal, 2but the souls of the1 righteous are immor2tal and divine. 3The human soul devel0ops up to death. 2We all have been for0 all time...and we s2hall be for all 3time...As the Spirit1 of our mortal body 2wanders on in 3childhood, and youth1 and old age, the Sp2irit wanders on to 3a new body: of this1 the sage has no dou2bts. 3Whatsoever that be w0ithin us that feels,2 thinks, desires, 3and animates, is som1ething celestial, di2vine, and, 3consequently, imperi1shable. 2The countenance is t0he portrait of the s2oul, 3and the eyes mark it1s intentions. 2All souls must under0go transmigration an2d the souls of men 3revolve like a stone1 which is thrown fro2m a sling, so many 3turns before the fin1al release...Only th2ose who have not 3completed their perf1ection must suffer t2he wheel of rebirth 3by being reborn into1 another human body.2There is spirit in t0he soul, untouched b2y time and flesh, 3flowing from the Spi1rit, remaining in th2e Spirit, itself 3wholly spiritual. I1n this principle is 2God, ever verdant, 3ever flowering in al1l the joy and glory 2of His actual Self. 3The soul is a veiled0 light. This light 2is triple: 3the pure spirit, the1 soul or spirit, and2 the mutable 3mediator. The veil 1of the soul is the s2hell of the 3image. The image is1 double because it r2eflects a 3light - the good and1 the evil angel of t2he soul... 3Yet stab at thee who0 will, 2No stab the soul can1 kill! 2The spirit of man co0mmunes with Heaven; 2the omnipotence of H1eaven resides in man2. 3Is the distance betw1een Heaven and man v2ery great? 3The soul is a fire t0hat darts its rays t2hrough all the 3senses; it is in thi1s fire that existenc2e consists; all 3the observations and1 all the efforts of 2philosophers ought 3to turn towards this1 ME, the centre and 2moving power of our 3sentiments and our i1deas. 2We are much better b0elievers in immortal2ity than we can 3give grounds for. T1he real evidence is 2too subtle, or 3is higher than we ca1n write down in prop2ositions. 3Man only of all eart0hly creatures, asks,2 "Can the dead die 3forever?" - and the 1instinct that urges 2the question is 3God's answer to man,1 for no instinct is 2given in vain. 3The human soul is li0ke a bird that is bo2rn in a cage. 3Nothing can deprive 1it of its natural lo2ngings, or 3obliterate the myste1rious remembrance of2 its heritage. 3If thy Soul smiles w0hile bathing in the 2Sunlight of thy 3Life; if thy Soul si1ngs within her chrys2alis of flesh and 3matter; if thy Soul 1weeps inside her cas2tle of illusion; 3if thy Soul struggle1s to break the silve2r thread that 3binds her to the MAS1TER; know that thy S2oul is of the earth.3Fire is the most per0fect and unadulterat2ed reflection, 3in Heaven as on Eart1h, of the ONE FLAME.2It is Life and Death1, the origin and the2 end of every 3material thing. It 1is divine "Substance2." 3Our hope of immortal0ity does not come fr2om any religions, 3but nearly all relig1ions come from that 2hope. 3As the moon retainet0h her nature, though2 darkness spread 3itself before her fa1ce as a curtain, so 2the Soul remaineth 3perfect even in the 1bosom of the fool. 2The Spirit filled al0l with his radiance.2 He is incorporeal 3and invulnerable, pu1re and untouched by 2evil. He is the 3supreme seer and thi1nker, immanent and t2ranscendent. He 3placed all things in1 the path of the Ete2rnal. 3As the sun that beh0olds the world 2 is untouched by ea1rthly impurities, 2so the Spirit that i1s in all things 2 is untouched by ex1ternal sufferings. 2There is a god withi0n us, and we have in2tercourse with 3heaven. That spirit1 comes from abodes o2n high. 3The soul has this pr0oof of its divinity:2that divine things d1elight in it. 2'And God created man0 in His image.' 2It is this image whi1ch receives us first2 when we come 3into this World, it 1develops with us whi2le we grow and 3accompanies us when 1we leave the earth. 2 Its source is 3in heaven. 1'Tis immortality, 't0is that alone, 2Amid life's pains, a1basements, emptiness2, 3The soul can comfort1, elevate, and fill.2That only, and that 1amply this performs.2The soul is indestru0ctible and its activ2ity will continue 3through eternity. I1t is like the sun, w2hich, to our eyes, 3seems to set at nigh1t; but it has in re2ality only gone to 3diffuse its light el1sewhere. 2Our dissatisfaction 0with any other solut2ion is the blazing 3evidence of immortal1ity. 2The one thing in the0 world, of value, is2 the active soul. 3There are souls in t0his world which have2 the gift of finding3joy everywhere and o1f leaving it behind 2them when they go. 3The soul is, of cour0se, the noblest part2 of man. 3As a draft-animal is0 yoked in a wagon, 2even so the spirit i1s yoked in this body2. 3This world is indeed0 in darkness, 2and how few can see 1the light! 2Just as few birds ca1n escape from a net,2few souls can fly in1to the freedom of he2aven. 3The want of goods is0 easily repaired, 2but the poverty of t1he soul is irreparab2le. 3Four thousand volume0s of metaphysics wil2l not teach us what 3the soul is. 1There are souls whic0h fall from heaven l2ike flowers, but 3ere they bloom are c1rushed under the fou2l tread of some 3brutal hoof. 1To desire immortalit0y is to desire the e2ternal perpetuation 3of a great mistake. 1My mind is incapable0 of conceiving such 2a thing as a soul. 3I may be in error, a1nd man may have a so2ul; 3but I simply do not 1believe it. 2Neither can I believ0e that the individua2l survives the death3of his body, althoug1h feeble souls harbo2r such thoughts 3through fear or ridi1culous egotism. 2Thinking, understand0ing, reasoning, will2ing, call not these 3Soul! They are its 1actions, but they ar2e not its essence. 3The Spirit is beyond0 sound and form, wit2hout touch and taste3and perfume. It is 1eternal, unchangeabl2e, and without 3beginning or end; in1deed above reasoning2. When 3consciousness of the1 Spirit manifests it2self, 3man becomes free fro1m the jaws of death.2Know that which perv0ades the entire body2 is indestructable. 3No one is able to de1stroy the imperishab2le soul. 3Do not think that ma0n is but flesh, skin2, bones and veins; 3far from it! What r1eally makes man is h2is soul; and the 3things we call skin,1 flesh, bones and ve2ins are but a 3garment, a cloak; th1ey do not constitute2 man. When man 3departs this earth, 1he divests himself o2f all the veils that3conceal him. 1One should leave a s0ingle person for the2 sake of a family; 3for the sake of a vi1llage he should aban2don a family; 3a village he should 1renounce for the sak2e of a country, 3and for the sake of 1his soul, the earth.2The spirit is smothe0red, as it were, by 2ignorance, but 3so soon as ignorance1 is destroyed, spiri2t shine forth, 3like the sun when re1leased from clouds. 2I pity men who occup0y themselves exclusi2vely with the 3transitory in things1 and lose themselves2 in the study of 3what is perishable, 1since we are here fo2r this very end- 3that we may make the1 perishable imperish2able, which we can 3do only after we hav1e learned how to app2roach both. 3He ne'er is crowned 0with immortality 2Who fears to follow 1where airy voices le2ad. 3As the tempest and t0he thunder affect no2t the sun or the 3stars, but spend the1ir fury on stones an2d trees below; 3so injuries ascend n1ot to the Soul of th2e great, but waste 3themselves on such a1s are those who offe2r them. 3The Spirit of the Et0ernal shot out of hi2s Body like a sheet 3of lightning that ra1diated at once on th2e billows of the 3Seven millions of sk1ies, and my ten sple2ndours were his 3limbs. 1By the Heaven and Hi0m who built it, 2by the earth and Him1 who leveled it, 2by the soul and Him 1who perfected it, 2then He taught it th1e ways of its ruin, 2and the way of its s1afety. 2 In consequence of 0possessing diverse a2ttributes, the 3Supreme Existence ap1pears manifold, but 2when the attributes 3are annihilated, uni1ty is restored. 2 In consequence of 1those diverse attrib2utes, a variety of 3names and conditions1 are supposed proper2 to the spirit, just3as a variety of tast1es and colours are a2ttributed to water. 3I sent my Soul throu0gh the Invisible, 2Some letter of that 1After-life spell, 2And by and by my Sou1l returned to me, 2And answered "I Myse1lf am Heaven and Hel2l." 3Souls perfected on t0his earth pass on to2 another station. 3After traversing the1 planets they come t2o the sun; 3they ascend into ano1ther universe and re2commence their 3planetary evolution 1from world to world 2and from sun to sun.3In the suns they rem1ember, and in the pl2anets they forget. 3The solar lives are 1the days of eternal 2life, 3and the planetary li1ves are the nights w2ith their dreams. 3The stars shall fade0 away, the sun himse2lf 3Grow dim with age, a1nd nature sink in ye2ars, 3But thou shalt flour1ish in immortal yout2h, 3Unhurt amidst the wa1rs of elements, 2The wrecks of matter1, and the crush of w2orlds. 3Still seems it stran0ge, that thou should2st live forever? 3Is it less strange, 1that thou shouldst l2ive at all? 3This is a miracle; a1nd that no more. 2The soul, uneasy and0 confined from home,2Rests and expatiates1 in a life to come. 2Awake, my soul! str0etch every nerve, 2 And press with vig1our on; 2A heavenly race dema1nds thy zeal, 2 And an immortal cr1own. 2I reflected how soon0 in the cup of desir2e 3 The pearl of the s1oul may be melted aw2ay; 3How quickly, alas, t1he pure sparkle of f2ire 3 We inherit from he1aven, may be quenche2d in the clay. 3For the sword outwea0rs its sheath, 2And the soul wears o1ut the breast. 2I feel my immortalit0y oversweep all pain2s, all tears, all 3time, all fears, - a1nd peal, like the et2ernal thunders of 3the deep, into my ea1rs, this truth, - th2ou livest forever! 3The soul of man is l0arger than the sky, 2Deeper than ocean, o1r the abysmal dark 2Of the unfathomed ce1ntre. 2We are born for a hi0gher destiny than th2at of earth.- 3There is a realm whe1re the rainbow never2 fades, where 3the stars will sprea1d out before us like2 islands that 3slumber on the ocean1, and where the bein2gs that pass 3before us like shado1ws, will stay in our2 presence forever. 3Surely God would not0 have created such a2 being as man, with 3an ability to grasp 1the infinite, to exi2st only for a day! 3No, no, man was made1 for immortality. 2Life is the soul's n0ursery - its trainin2g place for the 3destinies of eternit1y. 2Ah, the souls of tho0se that die 2Are but sunbeams lif1ted higher. 2No, no! The energy 0of life may be 2Kept on after the gr1ave, but not begun; 2And he who flagg'd n1ot in the earthly st2rife, 3From strength to str1ength advancing - on2ly he 3His soul well-knit, 1and all his battles 2won, 3Mounts, and that har1dly, to eternal life2. 3The monuments of the0 nations are all pro2tests against 3nothingness after de1ath; so are statues 2and inscriptions; 3so is history. 1Immortality - A toy 0which people cry for2, 3And on their knees a1pply for, 2Dispute, contend and1 lie for, 2 And if allowed 1 Would be right pro1ud 2Eternally to die for1. 2The voice is nothing0 but beaten air. 2Music is nothing els0e but wild sounds ci2vilized into time 3and tune. 1Eloquence is a paint0ing of the thoughts.2Music is the poetry 0of the air. 2Eloquence is the poe0try of prose. 2Music is well said t0o be the speech of a2ngels. 3Music is the harmoni0ous voice of creatio2n; 3an echo of the invis1ible world... 2Music is the univers0al language of manki2nd. 3Music is the shortha0nd of emotion. 2As empty vessels mak0e the loudest sound,2so they that have th1e least wit are the 2greatest babblers. 3As a vessel is known0 by the sound, wheth2er it be cracked or 3not; so men are prov1ed, by their speeche2s, whether they be 3wise or foolish. 1Talking and eloquenc0e are not the same: 2to speak and to spea1k well are two thing2s. 3A fool may talk, but1 a wise man speaks. 2As it is the charact0eristic of great wit2s to say much in few3words, so it is of s1mall wits to talk mu2ch and say nothing. 3Speech was given to 0the ordinary sort of2 men, 3whereby to communica1te their mind; 2but to wise men, whe1reby to conceal it. 2In oratory, the grea0test art is to conce2al art. 3What the orators lac0k in depth, they giv2e you in length. 3Music should strike 0fire from the heart 2of man, 3and bring tears from1 the eyes of woman. 2When you talk, you r0epeat what you alrea2dy know; 3when you listen, you1 often learn somethi2ng. 3Our sweetest songs a0re those which tell 2of saddest thought. 3Where painting is we0akest, namely, in th2e expression of the 3highest moral and sp1iritual ideas, there2 music is sublimely 3strong. 1Speech is but broken0 light upon the dept2h 3Of the unspoken. 1Speech is silvern, s0ilence is golden; 2speech is human, sil1ence is divine. 2Each time a new soul0 descends in the oce2an of the manifested3realm...it generates1 a vibration which i2s communicated to 3the entire cosmic oc1ean...Each creature 2and every so-called 3thing (one should sa1y being) is a crysta2llization of a part 3of this symphony of 1vibrations. Thus we2 are like a sound 3petrified in solid m1atter and which cont2inues indefinitely 3to resound in this m1atter...and the word2 became flesh. 3The wise ones fashio0ned speech with thei2r thought, 3sifting it as grain 1is sifted through a 2sieve. 3Speech was divided i0nto four parts that 2the inspired 3priests know. Three1 parts, hidden in de2ep secret, humans 3do not stir into act1ion; the fourth part2 of Speech is what 3men speak. 1Austerity of speech 0consists in speaking2 truthfully and 3beneficially and in 1avoiding speech that2 offends. 3He is an eloquent ma0n who can treat humb2le subjects with 3delicacy, lofty thin1gs impressively, and2 moderate things 3temperately. 1Abstruse questions m0ust have abstruse an2swers. 3It is of eloquence a0s of a flame; it req2uires matter to 3feed it, motion to e1xcite it, and it bri2ghtens as it burns. 3There is music where0ver there is harmony2, order, or 3proportion. 1True eloquence consi0sts in saying all th2at is necessary, 3and nothing but what1 is necessary. 2Eloquence is to the 0sublime 2what the part is to 1the whole. 2Music resembles poet0ry: 2In each are nameless1 graces which no met2hods teach 3And which a master-h1and alone can reach.2Music - The one inco0rporeal entrance int2o the higher world 3of knowledge which c1omprehends mankind b2ut which mankind 3cannot comprehend. 1The object of orator0y is not truth but p2ersuasion. 3Speech is power: sp0eech is to persuade,2 to convert, 3to compel. 1There is no index of0 character so sure a2s the voice. 3Talking is like play0ing on the harp; the2re is as much in 3laying the hands on 1the strings to stop 2their vibrations 3as in twanging them 1to bring out their m2usic. 3All the intelligence0 and talent in the w2orld can't make a 3singer. The voice i1s a wild thing. It 2can't be bred in 3captivity. 1Eloquence consists i0n making the speech 2comprehensible to 3the multitude and ag1reeable to the learn2ed. 3When thunder comes i0t relieves the tensi2on and promotes 3positive action. Mu1sic can do the same 2by making people 3enthusiastic and uni1ted together. When 2used to promote good3it brings them close1r to heaven. 2When the sun and the0 moon are set and th2e fire has sunk 3down, what is then t1he light of man? Vo2ice then becomes his3light; and by the vo1ice as his light he 2rests, goes forth, 3does his work and re1turns. Therefore in2 truth when a man 3cannot see even his 1own hand, if he hear2s a voice after that3he wends his way. 1Music produces a kin0d of pleasure which 2human nature cannot 3do without. 1The voice is the flo0wer of beauty. 2Music is the art of 0the prophets, the on2ly art that can calm3the agitations of th1e soul... 2He who sings frighte0ns away his ills. 2Eloquence - The art 0of saying things in 2such a way that 3those to whom we spe1ak may listen to the2m with pleasure. 3The sweetest of all 0sounds is that of th2e voice of the 3woman we love. 1Music, the greatest 0good that mortals kn2ow, 3And all of heaven we1 have below. 2Music is the only se0nsual gratification 2which mankind may 3indulge in to excess1 without injury to t2heir moral or 3religious feelings. 1The music that can d0eepest reach, 2And cure all ill, is1 cordial speech. 2Music washes away fr0om the soul the dust2 of everyday life. 3There is no feeling,0 except the extremes2 of fear and grief, 3that does not find r1elief in music. 2There is however, a 0true music of Nature2 - the song of the 3birds, the whisper o1f leaves, the ripple2 of waters upon a 3sandy shore, the wai1l of wind or sea. 2After silence, that 0which comes nearest 2to expressing the 3inexpressible is mus1ic. 2All the sounds of th0e earth are like mus2ic. 3A dog is not conside0red a good dog 2 because he is a go1od barker. 2A man is not conside1red a good man 2 because he is a go1od talker. 2Orators are most veh0ement when they have2 the weakest cause, 3as men get on horseb1ack when they cannot2 walk. 3In labouring to be c0oncise, I become obs2cure. 3Talkative people who0 wish to be loved ar2e hated; when they 3desire to please, th1ey bore; when they t2hink they are 3admired, they are la1ughed at; they injur2e their friends, 3benefit their enemie1s, and ruin themselv2es. 3The talkative listen0 to no one, for they2 are ever speaking.-3And the first evil t1hat attends those wh2o know not how to be3silent, is, that the1y hear nothing. 2Much talking is the 0cause of danger. 2Silence is the means1 of avoiding misfort2une. 3The talkative parrot1 is shut up in a cag2e. 3Other birds, without1 speech, fly freely 2about. 3Man has great power 0of speech, but the g2reater part thereof 3is empty and deceitf1ul. The animals hav2e little, but that 3little is useful and1 true; and better is2 a small and certain3thing than a great f1alsehood. 2The man that hath no0 music in himself, 2Nor is not moved wit1h concord of sweet s2ounds, 3Is fit for treasons,1 stratagems and spoi2ls. 3Talking is a disease0 of age. 2It is never so diffi0cult to speak as whe2n we are ashamed 3of our silence. 1It is a sad thing wh0en men have neither 2the wit to speak 3well, nor judgment t1o hold their tongues2. 3They never taste who0 always drink; 2They always talk who1 never think. 2The secret of being 0tiresome is in telli2ng everything. 3The spoken discourse0 may roll on strongl2y as the great tidal3wave; but, like the 1wave, it dies at las2t feebly on the 3sands. It is heard 1by few, remembered b2y still fewer, and 3fades away, like an 1echo in the mountain2s, leaving no token 3of power. It is the1 written human speec2h, that gave power 3and permanence to hu1man thought. 2In general those who0 have nothing to say2Contrive to spend th1e longest time in do2ing it. 3Without music life w0ould be a mistake. 2The tongue is but th0ree inches long, 2yet it can kill a ma1n six feet high. 2The tongue like a sh0arp knife... 2Kills without drawin1g blood. 2Put a bridle on thy 0tongue; set a guard 2before thy lips, 3lest the words of th1ine own mouth destro2y thy peace...On 3much speaking cometh1 repentance, but in 2silence is safety. 3Hear much; speak lit0tle. 2Whatever words we ut0ter should be chosen2 with care for 3people will hear the1m and be influenced 2by them for good 3or ill. 1A superior man is mo0dest in his speech, 2but exceeds in his a1ctions. 2Speak briefly and to0 the point. 2We have two ears and0 only one tongue in 2order that we may 3hear more and speak 1less. 2Speak only at the pr0oper place and time,2After having given d1ue consideration. 2If you utter elegant1 sayings too often, 2Even they lose their1 value. 2Speak clearly if you0 speak at all; 2carve every word bef1ore you let if fall.2He who wants to pers0uade should put his 2trust, not in the 3right argument, but 1in the right word. 2The power of sound 3has always been grea1ter than the power o2f sense. 3One of the best ways0 to persuade others 2is with your ears- 3by listening to them1. 2Thou, man, alone can0st speak. Wonder at2 thy glorious 3prerogative; and pay1 to Him who gave it 2to thee a rational 3and welcome praise, 1teaching thy childre2n wisdom, 3instructing the offs1pring of thy loins i2n piety. 3How sour sweet music0 is 2When time is broke a1nd no proportion kep2t! 3So is it in the musi1c of men's lives. 2The voice so sweet, 0the words so fair, 2As some soft chime h1ad stroke the air; 2And though the sound1 had parted thence, 2Still left an echo i1n the sense. 2When he spoke, what 0tender words he used2! 3So softly, that like1 flakes of feathered2 snow, 3They melted as they 1fell. 2Music hath charms to0 soothe a savage bea2st, 3To soften rocks, or 1bend a knotted oak. 2I've read that thing1s inanimate have mov2ed, 3And as with living s1ouls have been infor2med 3By magic numbers and1 persuasive sound. 2Music can noble hint0s impart, engender f2ury, kindle love, 3with unsuspected elo1quence can move and 2manage all the man 3with secret art. 1Tones that sound, an0d roar and storm abo2ut me until I have 3set them down in not1es. 2The music in my hear0t I bore, 2Long after it was he1ard no more. 2There's music in the0 sighing of a reed; 2 There's music in t1he gushing of a rill2; 3There's music in all1 things, if men had 2ears: 3 Their earth is but1 an echo of the sphe2res. 3The tenor's voice is0 spoilt by affectati2on, 3 And for the bass, 1the beast can only b2ellow; 3In fact, he had no s1inging education, 2 An ignorant, notel1ess, timeless, tunel2ess fellow. 3And music lifted up 0the listening spirit2Until it walked, exe1mpt from mortal care2, 3Godlike, o'er the cl1ear billows of sweet2 sound. 3Music once admitted 0to the soul becomes 2a sort of spirit, 3and never dies; it w1anders perturbedly t2hrought the halls 3and galleries of the1 memory, and is ofte2n heard again, 3distinct and living 1as when it first dis2placed the wavelets 3of the air. 1So she poured out th0e liquid music of he2r voice 3to quench the thirst1 of his spirit. 2The flowering moment0s of the mind 2Drop half their peta1ls in our speech. 2Music was a thing of0 the soul - 2a rose-lipped shell 1that murmured the et2ernal sea - 3a strange bird singi1ng the songs of anot2her shore. 3And the night shall 0be filled with music2 And the cares, tha1t infest the day, 2Shall fold their ten1ts, like the Arabs, 2 And as silently st1eal away. 2God sent his Singers0 upon earth 2With songs of sadnes1s and of mirth, 2That they might touc1h the hearts of men,2And bring them back 1to heaven again. 2That rich celestial 0music thrilled the a2ir 3From hosts on hosts 1of shining ones, who2 thronged 3Eastward and westwar1d, making bright the2 night. 3Her ivory hands on t0he ivory keys 2 Strayed in a fitfu1l fantasy 2Like the silver glea1m when the poplar tr2ees 3 Rustle their pale 1leaves listlessly 2Or the drifting foam1 of a restless sea 2 When the waves sho1w their teeth on the2 flying breeze. 3One dog barks at a s0hadow... 2A hundred bark at hi1s sound. 2In quarreling the tr0uth is always lost. 2To strive with an eq0ual is dangerous; 2with a superior, mad1; 2with an inferior, de1grading. 2Wise men argue cause0s, and fools decide 2them. 3The whole concord of0 this world consists2 in discords. 3In a false quarrel t0here is no true valo2r. 3There is no dispute 0managed without pass2ion, 3and yet there is sca1rce a dispute worth 2a passion. 3Strong and bitter wo0rds indicate a weak 2cause. 3Controversy equalize0s fools and wise men2 - 3and the fools know i1t. 2If we open a quarrel0 between the past an2d the present, 3we shall find that w1e have lost the futu2re. 3Fishes live in the s0ea, as men do on lan2d: 3the great ones eat u1p the little ones. 2Great affection is o0ften 2The cause of violent1 animosity. 2The quarrels of men 1often arise 2From too great a fam1iliarity. 2No conflict is so se0vere as his who labo2rs to 3subdue himself. 1He who establishes h0is arguments by nois2e and command shows 3that reason is weak.1Arguments, like chil0dren, should be like2 the subject that 3begets them. 1When worthy men fall0 out, only one of th2em may be faulty 3first; but if the st1rife continue long, 2both commonly 3become guilty. 1Quarrels would not l0ast long if the faul2t was only on 3one side. 1A knock-down argumen0t; 'tis but a word a2nd a blow. 3Nothing is more cert0ain than that much o2f the force, 3as well as grace, of1 arguments or instru2ctions 3depends on their con1ciseness. 2Assertion is not arg0ument; to contradict2 the statement of 3an opponent is not p1roof that you are co2rrect. 3In most quarrels the0re is a fault on bot2h sides. A quarrel 3may be compared to a1 spark, which cannot2 be produced 3without a flint, as 1well as steel. Eith2er of them, may 3hammer on wood forev1er; no fire will fol2low. 3Neither irony nor sa0rcasm is argument. 2People generally qua0rrel because they ca2nnot argue. 3The man who strikes 0first admits that hi2s ideas have given 3out. 1It may happen someti0mes that a long deba2te 3Becomes the cause of1 a longer friendship2. 3Commonly, those who 1dispute with one ano2ther 3At last agree. 1He that wrestles wit0h us strengthens our2 nerves, and 3sharpens our skill. 1 Our antagonist is o2ur helper. 3Everywhere in the Un0iverse, what we call2 Life and Movement 3results from a conti1nual conflict of For2ces or Impulses. 3Whenever that active1 antagonism ceases, 2the immobility and 3inertia, which are D1eath, result. 2When the fight begin0s within himself, 2a man's worth someth1ing. 2Like the course of t0he heavenly bodies, 2harmony in national 3life is a resultant 1of the struggle betw2een contending 3forces. In frank ex1pression of conflict2ing opinion lies the3greatest promise of 1wisdom in government2al action; and in 3suppression lies ord1inarily the greatest2 peril. 3Conflict is the gadf0ly of thought. It s2tirs us to 3observation and memo1ry. It instigates to2 invention. 3It shocks us out of 1sheeplike passivity,2 and sets us 3at noting and contri1ving. 2Better is a dry mors0el with quiet 2than a house full of1 feasting with strif2e. 3If thou continuest t0o take delight in id2le argumentation 3thou mayest be quali1fied to combat with 2the sophists, but 3will never know how 1to live with men. 2If a house be divide0d against itself, 2that house cannot st1and. 2Argument, as usually0 managed, is the wor2st sort of 3conversation, as in 1books it is generall2y the worst 3sort of reading. 1Those who in quarrel0s interpose, 2Must often wipe a bl1oody nose. 2Weakness on both sid0es is, as we know, t2he motto of all 3quarrels. 1He that blows the co0als in quarrels he h2as nothing to do 3with has no right to1 complain if the spa2rks fly in his 3face. 1It is not necessary 0to understand things2 in order to argue 3about them. 1The pain of dispute 0exceeds by much its 2utility. 3All disputation make1s the mind deaf; 2and when people are 1deaf I am dumb. 2Scorn also to depres0s thy competitor by 2any dishonest or 3unworthy method; str1ive to raise thyself2 above him only by 3excelling him; so sh1all thy contest for 2superiority be 3crowned with honour,1 if not with success2. 3But curb thou the hi0gh spirit in thy bre2ast, 3For gentle ways are 1best, and keep aloof2From sharp contentio1ns. 2You should respect e0ach other and refrai2n from disputes; 3you should not, like1 water and oil, repe2l each other, 3but should, like mil1k and water, mingle 2together. 3In arguing one shoul0d meet serious plead2ing with humor, 3and humor with serio1us pleading. 2Do not speak harshly0 to any one; those w2ho are spoken to 3will answer thee in 1the same way. Angry2 speech is painful: 3blows for blows will1 touch thee. 2A quarrel is quickly0 settled when desert2ed by one party: 3there is no battle u1nless there be two. 2Beware of entrance t0o a quarrel; but bei2ng in, 3Bear it, that the op1poser may beware of 2thee. 3Be calm in arguing; 0for fierceness makes2Error a fault, and t1ruth discourtesy. 2Don't take the wrong0 side of an argument2 just because your 3opponent has taken t1he right side. 2In a debate, rather 0pull to pieces the a2rgument of thy 3antagonist than offe1r him any of thy own2; for thus thou 3wilt fight him in hi1s own country. 2There is no good in 0arguing with the ine2vitable. 3The only argument av1ailable with an east2 wind 3is to put on your ov1ercoat. 2Desire nothing, Chaf0e not at fate, nor a2t Nature's 3changeless laws. Bu1t struggle only with2 the personal, 3the transitory, the 1evanescent and the p2erishable. 3The unforgiveable cr0ime is soft hitting.2Do not hit at all if1 it can be avoided; 2but never hit softly1. 2The master-secret in0 fighting is to stri2ke once, 3but in the right pla1ce. 2Heaven and water go 0their opposite ways:2The image of CONFLIC1T. 2Thus in all his tran1sactions the superio2r man 3Carefully considers 1the beginning. 2He who knows does no0t speak; 2He who speaks does n1ot know. 2He who is truthful i1s not showy; 2He who is showy is n1ot truthful. 2He who is virtuous d1oes not dispute; 2He who disputes is n1ot virtuous. 2He who is learned is1 not wise; 2He who is wise is no1t learned. 2Therefore the sage d1oes not display his 2own merits. 3Dissension, like sma0ll streams, are firs2t begun, 3Scarce seen they ris1e, but gather as the2y run: 3So lines that from t1heir parallel declin2e, 3More they proceed th1e more they still di2sjoin. 3Great contest follow0s, and much learned 2dust 3Involves the combata1nts; each claiming t2ruth, 3And truth disclaimin1g both. 2Discord, a sleepless0 hag who never dies,2With Snipe-like nose1, and Ferret-glowing2 eyes, 3Lean sallow cheeks, 1long chin with beard2 supplied, 3Poor cracklin joints1, and wither'd parch2ment hide, 3As if old Drums, wor1n out with martial d2in, 3Had clubb'd their ye1llow Heads to form h2er Skin. 3Alas! how light a c0ause may move 2Dissension between h1earts that love! 2Hearts that the worl1d in vain had tried,2And sorrow but more 1closely tied; 2That stood the storm1 when waves were rou2gh, 3Yet in a sunny hour 1fall off. 2Twas blow for blow, 0disputing inch by in2ch, 3For one would not re1treat, nor t'other f2linch. 3Controversy - A batt0le in which spittle 2or ink replace 3the...cannon ball. 1I dislike arguments 0of any kind. They a2re always vulgar, 3and often convincing1. 2A young Apollo, gold0en haired, 2 Stands dreaming on1 the verge of strife2, 3Magnificently unprep1ared 2 For the long littl1eness of life. 2To conquer oneself i0s a greater victory 2than to conquer thou1sands in a battle. 2Success is the rewar0d of toil. 2The first and best v0ictory is to conquer2 self; to be 3conquered by self is1 of all things most 2shameful and vile. 3Success - keeping yo0ur mind awake and yo2ur desire asleep. 3Success is a result,0 not a goal. 2There is only one su0ccess - 2to be able to spend 1your life in your ow2n way. 3The great are they w0ho attempt the diffi2cult things, 3which lesser men avo1id. 2Prepare for the diff0icult while it is st2ill easy. 3Deal with the big wh1ile it is still smal2l. 3Difficult undertakin1gs have always start2ed with what's easy.3Great undertakings a1lways started with w2hat is small. 3Therefore the sage n1ever strives for the2 great, 3And thereby the grea1t is achieved. 2The superior man und0erstands what is rig2ht; 3the inferior man und1erstands what will s2ell. 3Conquered, we conque0r. 2Yield to him who opp0oses you; 2by yielding you conq1uer. 2Victor and vanquishe0d never unite in sub2stantial agreement. 3Perhaps, for worldly0 success, 2we need virtues that1 make us loved 2and faults that make1 us feared. 2There is nothing so 0dreadful as a great 2victory - 3except a great defea1t. 2The greatest victory0 is defeat. 2Success - To rise fr0om the illusion of p2ursuit 3 to the dis1illusion of possessi2on. 3The men who are grea0t live with that whi2ch is substantial, 3they do not stay wit1h that which is supe2rficial; 3they abide with real1ities, 2they remain not with1 what is showy. 2The one they discard1, the other they hol2d. 3More will be accompl0ished, and better, a2nd with more ease, 3if every man does wh1at he is best fitted2 to do, 3and nothing else. 1The great man is he 0who does not lose hi2s child-heart. He 3does not think befor1ehand that his words2 shall be sincere, 3nor that his acts sh1all be resolute; he 2simply abides in 3the right. 1He conquers twice wh0o conquers himself i2n victory. 3The earnest desire o0f succeeding is almo2st always a 3prognostic of succes1s. 2Success makes succes0s, as money makes mo2ney. 3Success usually come0s to those who are t2oo busy to be 3looking for it. 1Victory is a thing o0f the will. 2Success is to be mea0sured not so much by2 the position that 3one has reached in l1ife as by the obstac2les which he has 3overcome while tryin1g to succeed. 2A man can succeed at0 almost anything for2 which he has 3unlimited enthusiasm1. 2One beam alone... 0No matter how stout.1.. 2Cannot support a hou1se. 2One's own self conqu0ered is better than 2all other people; 3not even a god could1 change into defeat 2the victory of a 3man who has vanquish1ed himself, and alwa2ys lives under 3restraint. 1To those who believe0 and do good deeds, 2for them are gardens1 beneath which flow 2rivers. 3This is the great tr1iumph. 2Brave conquerors! fo0r so you are 2That war against you1r own affections, 2And the huge army of1 the world's desires2. 3Success is a rare pa0int, hides all the u2gliness. 3The talent of succes0s is nothing more th2an doing what you 3can do well, and doi1ng well whatever you2 do without thought 3of fame. If it come1s at all it will com2e because it is 3deserved, not becaus1e it is sought after2. 3Without victory ther0e is no survival! 2The common idea that0 success spoils peop2le by making 3them vain, egotistic1 and self-complacent2 is erroneous; 3on the contrary, it 1makes them for the m2ost part, humble, 3tolerant and kind. 1Failure makes people2 cruel and bitter. 3Success has a great 0tendency to conceal 2and 3throw a veil over th1e evil deeds of men.2Victory is by nature0 insolent and haught2y. 3See how does great p0rosperity 2overspreads the mind1 with darkness. 2Experience has alway0s shown, and reason 2also, 3that affairs which d1epend on many seldom2 succeed. 3Success produces con0fidence; 2confidence relaxes i1ndustry, 2and negligence ruins1 the reputation 2which accuracy had r1aised. 2We triumph without g0lory 2when we conquer with1out danger. 2Constant success sho0ws us but one side o2f the world; for, 3as it surrounds us w1ith friends, who wil2l tell us only our 3merits, so it silenc1es those enemies fro2m whom alone we can 3learn our defects. 1Success is full of p0romises till men get2 it; and then it is 3as last year's nest,1 from which the bird2 has flown. 3Success soon palls. 0The joyous time is w1hen the breeze first2 strikes your sails,3and the waters rustl1e under your bows. 2Success is counted s0weetest 2By those who never s1ucceed. 2Not to the swift, th0e race: 2Not to the strong, t1he fight: 2Not to the righteous1, perfect grace: 2Not to the wise, the1 light. 2He will succeed if h0e remains firm in pr2inciple and goes 3beyond selfish consi1derations to mingle 2freely with those 3who do not share his1 feelings, as well a2s those who do. 3Truth obtains victor0y, not untruth. 2Truth is the way tha1t leads to the regio2ns of light. 3Be a tail to lions r0ather than a head to2 jackals. 3Our plans miscarry i0f they have no aim. 2When a man does not 1know what harbor he 2is making for, 3no wind is the right1 wind. 2If one is intelligen0t and applies himsel2f well, 3What can he not acco1mplish? 2Even small bands of 1people, I have heard2, 3Have defeated whole 1armies. 2To climb steep hills0 requires slow pace 2at first. 3To win a race, the s0wiftness of a dart 2availeth not without1 a timely start. 2Presence of mind, an0d courage in distres2s, 3Are more than armies1 to procure success.2Do not think dishone0stly... 2Distinguish between 1gain and loss in wor2ldly matters. 3Develop intuitive ju1dgement and understa2nding for 3 everything. 1Perceive those thing1s which cannot be se2en. 3Pay attention even t1o trifles. 2Do nothing which is 1of no use. 2Be commonplace and c0reeping, 2and you attain all t1hings. 2Nothing is impossibl0e to the man who can2 will, and then do; 3this is the only law1 of success. 2If you would be well0 with a great mind, 2 leave him with a f1avorable impression 2of you; 3if with a little min1d, 2 leave him with a f1avorable opinion of 2himself. 3If you would hit the0 mark, you must aim 2a little above it: 3Every arrow that fli1es feels the attract2ion of earth. 3The true road to pre0eminent success in a2ny line 3is to make yourself 1master of that line.2The three great esse0ntials to achieve an2ything worth- 3while are first, har1d work; second, stic2k-to-itiveness; 3third, common sense.1What are the qualiti0es that make for suc2cess? Judgement, 3industry, health, an1d the greatest of th2ese is judgement. 3Try not to become a 0man of success but 2rather try to become1 a man of value. 2The secret of all vi0ctory lies in the or2ganization of the 3non-obvious. 1I can give you a six0-word formula for su2ccess: 3"Think things throug1h - then follow thro2ugh." 3Bit by bit the man a0chieves success. 2This should be value1d but not pushed too2 far. 3When the moon is ful1l, waning is inevita2ble. 3Quiescence is in ord1er. 2Which does one love 0more, fame or one's 2own life? 3Which is more valuab1le, one's own life o2r wealth? 3Which is worse, gain1 or loss? 2 Therefore 1He who has lavish de1sires will spend ext2ravagantly. 3He who hoards most w1ill lose heavily. 2He who is contented 1suffers no disgrace.2He who knows when to1 stop is free from d2anger. 3Therefore he can lon1g endure. 2Despise no man and c0onsider nothing impo2ssible, 3for there is no man 1who does not have hi2s hour 3and there is no thin1g that does not have2 its place. 3To him who knoweth t0he true nature of th2ings, 3 What need is there1 of a teacher? 2To him who hath reco1vered from illness, 2 What need is there1 of a physician? 2To him who hath cros1sed the river, 2 What need is there1 of a boat? 2Success, the mark no0 mortal wit, 2Or surest hand, can 1always hit: 2For whatsoe'er we pe1rpetrate, 2We do but row, we're1 steer'd by Fate, 2Which in success oft1 disinherits, 2For spurious causes,1 noblest merits. 2He that will not sto0op for a pin will ne2ver be worth a pound3He that climbs the t0all tree has won rig2ht to the fruit, 3He that leaps the wi1de gulf should preva2il in his suit. 3All you need in this0 life is ignorance a2nd confidence, 3and then success is 1sure. 2Style is the dress o0f thoughts. 2Taste is, so to spea0k, the microscope of2 judgment. 3Taste is the mind's 0tact. 2Taste is the literar0y conscience of the 2soul. 3Love of beauty is ta0ste. 2Style is the perfect0ion of good sense. 2Taste is the feminin0e of genius. 2Tact is the ability 0to describe others a2s they see 3themselves. 1Culture is to know t0he best that has bee2n said and thought 3in the world. 1Culture is the habit0 of being pleased wi2th the best and 3knowing why. 1Too great refinement0 is false delicacy, 2and true delicacy is1 solid refinement. 2Between good sense a0nd good taste 2there is the differe1nce between cause an2d effect. 3The same refinement 0which brings us new 2pleasures, 3exposes us to new pa1ins. 2Partial culture runs0 to the ornate; 2extreme culture to s1implicity. 2Good taste is better0 than bad taste, 2but bad taste is bet1ter than no taste. 2As the soil, however0 rich it may be, 2cannot be productive1 without cultivation2, 3so the mind without 1culture 2can never produce go1od fruit. 2Whatever are the ben0efits of fortune, th2ey yet require a 3palate fit to relish1 and taste them. 2Taste may be compare0d to that exquisite 2sense of the 3bee, which instantly1 discovers and extra2cts the quintessence3of every flower, and1 disregards all the 2rest of it. 3The fashion wears ou0t more apparel than 2the man. 3People care more abo0ut being thought to 2have good taste 3than about being tho1ught either good, cl2ever or amiable. 3Good taste come more0 from the judgment t2han from the mind. 3A well-cultivated mi0nd is, so to speak, 2made up of all the 3minds of preceding a1ges; it is only one 2single mind which 3has been educated du1ring all this time. 2There is no disputin0g about taste. 2Taste is pursued at 0a less expense than 2fashion. 3Taste depends upon t0hose finer emotions 2which make the 3organization of the 1soul. 2It matters little wh0ether a man be mathe2matically, or 3philologically, or a1rtistically cultivat2ed, so he be but 3cultivated. 1Taste has never been0 corrupted by simpli2city. 3Genius creates, and 0taste preserves. 2Taste is the good se1nse of genius; 2without taste, geniu1s is only sublime fo2lly. 3Culture implies all 0that which gives the2 mind possession 3of its own powers; a1s languages to the c2ritic, telescope 3to the astronomer. 1Appreciation, whethe0r of nature, or book2s, or art, or men, 3depends very much on1 temperament. What 2is beauty or genius 3or greatness to one,1 is far from being s2o to another. 3Culture, like the ki0ngdom of heaven, lie2s within us, and not3in foreign galleries1 and books. 2From the Emperor dow0n to the masses of t2he people, 3all must consider th1e cultivation of the2 person 3the root of everythi1ng else. 2After a spirit of di0scernment the next r2arest things in the 3world are diamonds a1nd pearls. 2By appreciation we m0ake excellence in ot2hers our own 3property. 1A truly elegant tast0e is generally accom2panied with an 3excellency of heart.1It is in refinement 0and elegance that th2e civilized man 3differs from the sav1age. 2Delicacy of taste is0 favorable to love a2nd friendship, 3by confining our cho1ice to few people, a2nd making us 3indifferent to the c1ompany and conversat2ion of the greater 3party of men. 1Clearness ornaments 0profound thoughts. 2To love one that is 0great, is almost to 2be great one's self.3To appreciate the no0ble is a gain which 2can never be torn 3from us. 1That only can with p0ropriety be styled r2efinement which, 3by strengthening the1 intellect, purifies2 the manners. 3Refinement creates b0eauty everywhere. I2t is the grossness 3of the spectator tha1t discovers anything2 like grossness 3in the object. 1The great law of cul0ture: 2Let each become all 1that he was created 2capable of being. 3Next to excellence i0s the appreciation o2f it. 3Culture is properly 0described as the lov2e of perfection; 3it is a study of per1fection. 2The value of culture0 is its effect on ch2aracter. It avails 3nothing unless it en1nobles and strengthe2ns that. Its use is3for life. Its aim i1s not beauty, but go2odness. 3Culture is the sum o0f all the forms of a2rt, of love and of 3thought, which, in t1he course of centuri2es, have enabled man3to be less enslaved.1Subtlety may deceive0 you; integrity neve2r will. 3He who has no opinio0n of his own, but de2pends upon the 3opinion and taste of1 others, is a slave.2Nothing is more fear0ful than imagination2 without taste. 3With many readers br0illiancy of style pa2sses for affluence 3of thought; they mis1take buttercups in t2he grass for 3immeasurable mines o1f gold under ground.2It is far more diffi0cult to be simple th2an to be 3complicated; far mor1e difficult to sacri2fice skill and 3cease exertion in th1e proper place, than2 to expend both 3indiscriminately. 1A fashion is nothing0 but an induced epid2emic. 3The more refined one0 is, the more unhapp2y. 3Taste is the enemy o0f creativeness. 2No medicines can cur0e the vulgar man. 2Do not become attach0ed to the things you2 like, 3do not cherish avers1ion to the things yo2u dislike. 3Sorrow, fear and bon1dage come from one's2 likes and dislikes.3Cultivation to the m0ind, is as necessary2 as food to the body3You will find poetry0 nowhere unless you 2bring some with you.3The finest qualities0 of our nature, like2 the bloom on 3fruits, can be prese1rved only by the mos2t delicate handling.3Good taste consists 0first upon fitness. 2Enhance and intensif0y one's vision of th2at synthesis of 3truth and beauty whi1ch is the highest an2d deepest reality. 3I am very sure that 0any man of common un2derstanding may, 3by culture, care, at1tention, and labor, 2make himself what- 3ever he pleases, exc1ept a great poet. 2The poet must be ali0ke polished by an in2tercourse with the 3world as with the st1udies of taste; one 2to whom labour is 3negligence, refineme1nt a science, and ar2t a nature. 3Do not do unto other0s as you would that 2they should do unto 3you. Their tastes m1ay not be the same. 2Fashion is what one 0wears oneself. What2 is unfashionable 3is what other people1 wear. 2There was something 0undifferentiated and2 yet complete, 3Which existed before1 heaven and earth. 2Soundless and formle1ss, it depends on no2thing 3 and does not chang1e. 2It operates everywhe1re and is free from 2danger. 3It may be considered1 the mother of the u2niverse. 3God is a circle whos0e center is everywhe2re, 3and its circumferenc1e nowhere. 2God is truth and lig0ht his shadow. 2The divine essence i0tself is love and wi2sdom. 3All are but parts of0 one stupendous whol2e, 3Whose body Nature is1, and God the soul. 2Existence is God! 0There are, assuredly0, two forms of The E2ternal: 3the formed and the f1ormless, the mortal 2and the immortal, 3the stationary and t1he moving, the actua2l and the yon. 3We look at it and do0 not see it; 2 Its name is The In1visible. 2We listen to it and 1do not hear it; 2 Its name is The In1audible. 2We touch it and do n1ot find it; 2 Its name is The Su1btle (formless). 2These three cannot b1e further inquired i2nto, 3And hence merge into1 one. 2Going up high it is 1not bright, 2And coming down low,1 it is not dark. 2Infinite and boundle1ss, it cannot be giv2en any name; 3It reverts to nothin1gness. 2This is called shape1 without shape, 2Form without object.1It is The Vague and 1Elusive. 2Meet it and you will1 not see its head. 2Follow it and you wi1ll not see its back.2Hold on to The Way o1f the old in order t2o master the things 3 of the present. 1From this one may kn1ow the primeval begi2nning 3 (of the universe).1This is called the b1ond of The Eternal. 2Of all that is mater0ial and all that is 2spiritual in this 3world, know for cert1ain that I am both i2ts origin and 3dissolution. There 1is no true superior 2to Me. Everything 3rests upon Me, as pe1arls are strung on a2 thread. 3I am Alpha and Omega0, the beginning and 2the ending, 3saith the Lord. 1The more God is in a0ll things, the more 2He is outside them. 3The more He is withi1n, the more without.2A God all mercy is a0 God unjust. 2To Him no high, no l0ow, no great, no sma2ll; 3He fills, He bounds,1 connects and equals2 all! 3Space is the statue 0of God. 2When the gods were m0ore manlike, 2Men were more godlik1e. 2We find God twice - 0once within, once wi2thout us: 3within us as an eye,1 without us as a lig2ht. 3There are, properly 0speaking, two "ONES"2 - the One on the 3unreachable plane of1 Absoluteness and In2finity, on which 3no speculation is po1ssible, and the Seco2nd "One" on the 3plane of Emanations.1 The former can nei2ther emanate nor be 3divided, as it is et1ernal, absolute, and2 immutable. The 3Second, being, so to1 speak, the reflecti2on of the first One,3can do all this. 1There was neither no0n-existence nor exis2tence then; 3there was neither th1e realm of space nor2 the sky beyond. 3There was no disting1uishing sign of nigh2t nor of day. 3That One breathed, w1indless, by its own 2impulse. 3Other than that ther1e was nothing beyond2. 3Darkness was hidden 1by darkness in the b2eginning; 3with no distinguishi1ng sign, all this wa2s water. 3The life force that 1was, was covered wit2h emptiness, 3that one arose throu1gh the power of heat2. 3Desire came upon tha1t one in the beginni2ng; 3that was the first s1eed of mind. 2He is the one in who0se power are the man2y sources of 3creation, and the ro1ot and the flower of2 all things. The 3Golden Seed, the Cre1ator, was in his min2d in the beginning; 3and he saw him born 1when time began. 2The Eternal is empty0 (like a bowl), 2It may be used but i1ts capacity is never2 exhausted. 3It is bottomless, pe1rhaps the ancestor o2f all things. 3It blunts its sharpn1ess, 2It unties its tangle1s, 2It softens its light1. 2It becomes one with 1the dusty world. 2Deep and still, it a1pppears to exist for2ever. 3I do not know whose 1son it is. 2It seems to have exi1sted before the Lord2. 3God is neither the o0bject of sense, nor 2subject to passion, 3but invisible, only 1intelligible, and su2premely intelligent.3In His body He is li1ke the light, and in2 His soul He 3resembles truth. He1 is the universal sp2irit that pervades 3and diffuses itself 1over all nature...He2 is the Reason, the 3Life, the Motion of 1all being. 2The ignorant think o0f Me, who am the Unm2anifested Spirit, 3as if I were really 1in human form. They2 do not understand 3that My Supreme Natu1re is changeless and2 most excellent. 3I am not invisible t1o all, for I am enve2loped by the 3illusion of Phenomen1on. This deluded wo2rld does not know Me3as the Unborn and th1e Imperishable. 2There is something i0n the nature of thin2gs which the mind of3man, which reason, w1hich human power can2not effect, and 3certainly that which1 produces this must 2be better than man. 3What can this be but1 God? 2Call it Nature, Fate0, Fortune; all these2 are names of the 3one and selfsame God1. 2Where one is present0, God is the second,2and where there are 1two, God is the thir2d. 3That which exists th0rough itself is call2ed The Eternal. 3The Eternal has neit1her name nor shape. 2 It is the one 3essence, the one pri1mal spirit. Essence2 and life cannot be 3seen. They are cont1ained in the light o2f heaven. The light3of heaven cannot be 1seen. It is contain2ed in the two eyes. 3The very impossibili0ty in which I find m2yself to prove that 3God is not, discover1s to me his existenc2e. 3God is the universal0 substance in existi2ng things. 3He comprises all thi1ngs. He is the foun2tain of all being. 3In Him exists everyt1hing that is. 2It is easy to unders0tand God as long as 2you don't try to 3explain him. 1God is the poet, men0 are but the actors.2God enters a private0 door into every ind2ividual. 3God is the perfect p0oet, 2Who in his person ac1ts his own creations2. 3There is no life, tr0uth, intelligence, n2or substance in 3 matter. 1All is infinite Mind1 and its infinite ma2nifestation, 3 for God is All - i1n all. 2Spirit is immortal T1ruth; matter is mort2al error. 3What is it that ever0 is? 2 Space, the eternal1 parentless. 2What is it that ever1 was? 2 The Germ in the Ro1ot. 2What is it that is e1ver coming and going2? 3 The Great Breath. 1Then, there are thre1e Eternals? 2 No, the three are 1one. That which eve2r is is one, 3 that which ever wa1s is one, that which2 is ever being 3 and becoming is al1so one: and this is2 Space. 3God is a reality of 0spirit...He cannot..2.be conceived as an 3object, not even as 1the very highest obj2ect. God is not 3to be found in the w1orld of objects. 2In Him is an illimit0able abyss of glory,2 and from it there 3goeth forth one litt1le spark which maket2h all the glory of 3the sun, and of the 1moon, and of the sta2rs. Mortal! 3behold how little I 1know of God; seek no2t to know more 3of Him, for this is 1far beyond thy compr2ehension, however 3wise thou art. 1Forgetful youth! but0 know, the Power abo2ve 3With ease can save e1ach object of his lo2ve; 3Wide as his will, ex1tends his boundless 2grace. 3The way which is bri0ght appears to be da2rk. 3The way which goes f1orward appears to fa2ll backward. 3The way which is lev1el appears uneven. 2Great virtue appears1 like a valley (holl2ow). 3Great purity appears1 like disgrace. 2Far-reaching virtue 1appears as if insuff2icient. 3Solid virtue appears1 as if unsteady. 2True substance appea1rs to be changeable.2The great square has1 no corners. 2The great talent is 1slow to mature. 2Great music sounds f1aint. 2Great form has no sh1ape. 2The Eternal is hidde1n and nameless. 2Yet it is The Eterna1l alone that skillfu2lly provides for all3 and brings them to1 perfection. 2If hundreds of thous0ands of suns rose up2 at once into the 3sky, they might rese1mble the effulgence 2of the Supreme 3Person in that unive1rsal form. 2I am the taste in th0e water, the light o2f the sun and the 3moon, the sound in t1he ether, the abilit2y in man, the 3fragrance of the ear1th, the heat in the 2fire, the life of 3all that lives, the 1strength of the stro2ng, the intelligence3of the intelligent, 1and the original see2d of all existences.3There is nothing whi0ch God cannot do. 2There is a God withi0n us, and we glow wh2en he stirs us. 3Nothing is void of G0od; He Himself fills2 His work. 3It is one of my favo0rite thoughts, that 2God manifests 3himself to mankind i1n all wise, good, hu2mble, generous, 3great and magnanimou1s men. 2A superintending pow0er to maintain the U2niverse in its 3course and order. 1If we look closely a0t this world, where 2God seems so 3utterly forgotten, w1e shall find that it2 is he, who, after 3all, commands the mo1st fidelity and the 2most love. 3Nature is too thin a0 screen; the glory o2f the omnipresent 3God bursts through e1verywhere. 2There is a realm whe0re there is neither 2earth nor water, 3neither space nor ti1me, neither percepti2on nor thinking, 3neither light nor da1rkness, neither east2 nor west. That is 3the abode of The Ete1rnal where there is 2everlasting peace 3and bliss. 1The gods play games 0with men as balls...2In wondrous ways do 1the gods make sport 2with men. 3It is fear that firs0t brought gods into 2the world. 3One atom of the plan0e where He functions2would shatter the wo1rld. 2Hath God obliged him0self not to exceed t2he bounds 3of our knowledge? 1As flies are to want0on boys, are we to t2he gods; 3They kill us for the1ir sport. 2To believe in God is0 impossible 2not to believe in Hi1m is absurd. 2Without a God there 0is for man neither p2urpose, nor goal, 3nor hope, only a wav1ering future, and an2 eternal dread of 3every darkness. 1How did the atheist 0get his idea of that2 God whom he denies?3God does not exist..0.We are precisely on2 a plane where 3nothing exists but m1en. 2The more we deny our0selves, 2the more the gods su1pply our wants. 2Is there any other s0eat of the Divinity 2than the earth, sea,3air, the heavens, an1d virtuous mind? Wh2y do we seek God 3elsewhere? He is wh1atever you see; He i2s wherever you move.3It were better to ha0ve no opinion of God2 at all 3than such a one as i1s unworthy of him; 2for the one is only 1belief - the other c2ontempt. 3We cannot too often 0think, that there is2 a never sleeping 3eye that reads the h1eart, and registers 2our thoughts. 3Acquaint thyself wit0h God, if thou would2'st taste 3His works. Admitted1 once to his embrace2, 3Thou shalt perceive 1that thou was blind 2before: 3Thine eye shall be i1nstructed; and thine2 heart 3Made pure shall reli1sh with divine delig2ht 3Till then unfelt, wh1at hands divine have2 wrought. 3You must seek and fi0nd God in the heart.2You see many stars a0t night in the sky b2ut find them not 3when the sun rises; 1can you say that the2re are no stars 3in the heaven of day1? So, O man! becaus2e you behold not 3God in the days of y1our ignorance, say n2ot that there is 3no God. 1I Thy God am the Lig0ht and the Mind whic2h were before 3substance was divide1d from Spirit and da2rkness from 3Light. 1Who hath stretched f0orth the heavens wit2h His hand, who hath3described with His f1inger the courses of2 the stars. 3Beyond the senses ar0e their objects, and2 beyond the objects 3is the mind. Beyond1 the mind is pure re2ason, and beyond 3reason is the Spirit1 in man. Beyond the2 Spirit in man is 3the Spirit of the un1iverse, and beyond i2s the Spirit 3Supreme. Nothing is1 beyond the Spirit S2upreme: He is the 3end of the path. 1Nothing is more anci0ent than God, for he2 was never created; 3nothing more beautif1ul than the world, i2t is the work of 3that same God; nothi1ng more active than 2thought, for it 3flies over the whole1 universe; nothing s2tronger than 3necessity, for all m1ust submit to it. 2...I am the Father o0f the Universe and i2ts Mother; I am its 3Nourisher and its Gr1andfather; I am the 2Knowable and the 3Pure;...I am the Goa1l, the Sustainer, th2e Lord, the Witness,3the Home, the Shelte1r, the Lover and the2 Origin; I am Life 3and Death; I am the 1Fountain and the See2d Imperishable... 3I am Death and Immor1tality; I am Being a2nd Non-Being. 3He is the Ancient of0 the Ancients, the M2ystery of the 3Mysteries, the Unkno1wn of the Unknowns..2.He is seated on a 3throne of fiery spar1ks which He subjects2 to His will. The 3white light emitted 1by His head illumine2s four hundred 3thousand worlds. Th1is white light becom2es the inheritance 3of the just in the w1orld to come. Each 2day sees thirteen 3myriads of worlds ki1ndled by His brain..2. 3Blessed be He in who0se hand is the Kingd2om: and He is 3powerful over all; w1ho created death and2 life to prove 3which of you is best1 in actions, and He 2is the Mighty, 3the Very Forgiving; 1who hath created sev2en heavens in 3stages. 1Man is certainly sta0rk mad; he cannot ma2ke a flea, 3and yet he will be m1aking gods by dozens2. 3Under whose feet (su0bjected to His Grace2), 3Sit nature, fortune,1 motion, time, and p2lace. 3At whose sight all t0he stars 2Hide their diminish'1d heads. 2God moves in a myste0rious way 2 His wonders to per1form; 2He plants his footst1eps in the sea 2 And rides upon the1 storm. 2Blessed is he who ca0rries within himself2 a God, an ideal, 3and who obeys it. 1There are scores of 0thousands of sects w2ho are ready at a 3moment's notice to r1eveal the will of Go2d on every possible 3subject. 1The Somewhat which w0e name but cannot kn2ow. 3 Even as we name a 1star and only see 2Its quenchless flash1ings forth, which ev2er show 3 And ever hide him,1 and which are not h2e. 3We make our friends;0 we make our enemies2; 3but God makes our ne1xt-door neighbor. 2God is subtle but no0t malicious. 2The gods...thousands0 and ten thousands..2.are one god. 3Thinking is the talk0ing of the soul with2 itself. 3Memory is the treasu0ry and guardian of a2ll knowledge. 3Mind moves matter. 0Thought is free. 0Intellect is brain f0orce. 2The power of Thought0, the magic of the M2ind! 3Consciousness is wha0t happens to intelli2gence 3when it is confronte1d with an object. 2Mind is indeed the s0ource of bondage 2and also the source 1of liberation. 2To be bound to thing1s of this world: th2is is bondage. 3To be free from them1: this is liberatio2n. 3A man must elevate h0imself by his own mi2nd, not degrade 3himself. The mind i1s the friend of the 2conditioned soul, 3and his enemy as wel1l. 2It is the mind that 0maketh good or ill, 2That maketh wretch o1r happy, rich or poo2r. 3There is one radical0 distinction between2 different minds... 3that some minds are 1stronger and apter t2o mark the 3differences of thing1s, others mark their2 resemblances. 3There is nothing eit0her good or bad, 2but thinking makes i1t so. 2Our thoughts are our0s, their ends none o2f our own. 3The two offices of m0emory are collection2 and distribution. 3Few have at once bot0h thought and capaci2ty for action. 3Thought expands, but1 lames; action anima2tes, but narrows. 3In matters of consci0ence first thoughts 2are best; 3in matters of pruden1ce last thoughts are2 best. 3Of all the faculties0 of the mind, memory2 is the first that 3flourishes, and the 1first that dies. 2Thought once awakene0d does not again slu2mber. 3What is mind? No ma0tter. 2What is matter? Nev1er mind. 2The revelation of th0ought takes men out 2of servitude 3into freedom. 1Thoughts come into o0ur minds by avenues 2which we never left 3open, and thoughts g1o out of our minds t2hrough avenues which3we never voluntarily1 opened. 2Intellect distinguis0hes between the poss2ible and the 3impossible; reason d1istinguishes between2 the sensible 3and the senseless. 1Even the possible ca2n be senseless. 3The most perfect min0d is a dry light. 2When thy reason has 0crossed the entangle2ments of illusion, 3then shalt thou beco1me indifferent both 2to the philosophies 3thou hast heard and 1to those thou mayest2 yet hear. 3It is the mind that 0makes the man, 2and our vigour is in1 our immortal soul. 2And which of you wit0h taking thought can2 add to his stature 3one cubit? 1Thought, Intelligenc0e, Voice, and Word a2re one and the same 3thing; that thought 1is the beginning of 2all that is, and 3that there can be no1 break in it. Thoug2ht itself is bound 3to Non-Being, and is1 never parted from i2t. 3How fleet is a glanc0e of the mind! 2 Compared with the 1speed of its flight,2The tempest itself l1ags behind, 2 And the swift-wing1ed arrows of light. 2There are two distin0ct classes of what a2re called thoughts: 3those that we produc1e in ourselves by re2flection and the act3of thinking and thos1e that bolt into the2 mind of their own 3accord. 1It hinders the creat0ive work of the mind2 if the intellect 3examines too closely1 the ideas as they p2our in. 3The second, sober th0ought of the people 2is seldom wrong, 3and always efficient1. 2The mind wears the c0olors of the soul, 2as a valet those of 1his master. 2Thought will not wor0k except in silence.2A great memory does 0not make a mind, any2 more than a 3dictionary is a piec1e of literature. 2The senses collect t0he surface facts of 2matter...It was 3sensation; when memo1ry came, it was expe2rience; when mind 3acted, it was knowle1dge; when mind acted2 on it as knowledge,3it was thought. 1Thought is the prope0rty of those only wh2o can entertain it. 3What is thought? It0 is not Matter, nor 2Spirit. It is not a3Thing; but a Power a1nd Force. I make up2on a paper certain 3conventional marks, 1that represent that 2Thought. There is 3no Power or Virtue i1n the marks I write,2 but only in the 3Thought which they t1ell to others. I di2e, but the Thought 3still lives. It is 1a Power. The fact t2hat Thought 3continues to exist a1n instant, after it 2makes its appearance3in the soul, proves 1it immortal: for th2ere is nothing 3conceivable that can1 destroy it. The sp2oken words, being 3mere sounds, may van1ish into thin air, a2nd the written ones,3mere marks, be burne1d, erased, destroyed2: but the THOUGHT 3itself lives still, 1and must live on for2ever. 3A thought often make0s us hotter than a f2ire. 3Few minds wear out; 0more rust out. 2Thought has a self-r0eproductive power, a2nd when the mind is 3held steadily to one1 idea it becomes col2oured by it, and, as3we may say, all the 1correlates of that t2hought arise within 3the mind. Hence the1 mystic obtains know2ledge about any 3object of which he t1hinks constantly in 2fixed contemplation.3It is the mind that 0makes one wise or ig2norant, bound or 3emancipated. One is1 holy because of his2 mind, one is 3wicked because of hi1s mind, one is a sin2ner because of 3his mind, and it is 1the mind that makes 2one virtuous. So 3he whose mind is alw1ays fixed on God req2uires no other 3practices, devotion,1 or spiritual exerci2ses. 3Minds are like parac0hutes - they only fu2nction when open. 3Consciousness is a s0tate in which a man 2knows all at once 3everything that he i1n general knows and 2in which he can 3see how little he do1es know and how many2 contradictions 3there are in what he1 knows. 2Merely having an ope0n mind is nothing. 2The object of 3opening the mind, as1 of opening the mout2h, is to shut it 3again on something s1olid. 2I conceive a man's b0ody as a kind of fla2me, like a candle 3flame, forever uprig1ht and yet flowing: 2 and the intellect 3is just the light th1at is shed on the th2ings around. 3The mind is a produc0t of experience. It2 is the result of 3past thinking and is1 modified by present2 thinking. 3All that we are is t0he result of what we2 have thought; 3it is founded on our1 thoughts. If a man2 speaks or acts 3with pure thought, h1appiness follows him2, like a shadow 3that never leaves hi1m. 2Serenity, simplicity0, gravity, self-cont2rol and purity of 3thought are the aust1erities of the mind.2A great mind becomes0 a great fortune. 2Memory tempers prosp0erity, mitigates adv2ersity, 3controls youth, and 1delights old age. 2True thoughts have d0uration in themselve2s. 3If the thoughts endu1re, the seed is endu2ring; 3if the seed endures,1 the energy endures;2if the energy endure1s, then will the spi2rit endure. 3The spirit is though1t; thought is the he2art; 3the heart is the fir1e; the fire is the E2lixir. 3Thoughts are free an0d are subject to no 2rule. 3On them rests the fr1eedom of man, 2and they tower above1 the light of nature2. 3My mind to me a king0dom is, 2 Such perfect joy t1herein I find 2As far exceeds all e1arthly bliss 2 That God or nature1 hath assigned. 2'Tis the mind that m0akes the body rich. 2If a man empties his0 purse into his head2, 3no one can take it f1rom him. 2Thinkers are scarce 0as gold; but he whos2e thoughts embrace 3all his subject, pur1sues it uninterrupte2dly and fearless of 3consequences, is a d1iamond of enormous s2ize. 3He who thinks much s0ays but little in pr2oportion to his 3thoughts. He select1s that language whic2h will convey his 3ideas in the most ex1plicit and direct ma2nner. 3Great men are they w0ho see that spiritua2l is stronger than 3any material force, 1that thoughts rule t2he world. 3Thought...quickly te0nds to convert itsel2f into a power, 3and organizes a huge1 instrumentality of 2means. 3One man who has a mi0nd and knows it 2can always beat ten 1men who haven't and 2don't. 3The empires of the f0uture are the empire2s of the mind. 3The mind... 0Emperor of the body.1For the imagination 0of man's heart is ev2il from his youth. 3If a man speaks or a0cts with an evil tho2ught, pain follows 3him, as the wheel fo1llows the foot of th2e ox that draws 3the carriage. 1It is a man's own mi0nd - not his enemy o2r his foe that 3lures him into evil 1ways. 2The imagination of w0ater does not quench2 thirst. 3The thought of fire 1does not bestow heat2. 3And the claim to be 1seeking does not bri2ng one to the 3 Sought. 1Nothing fixes a thin0g so intensely in th2e memory as the 3wish to forget it. 1Men use thought only0 to justify their wr2ongdoings, 3and speech only to c1onceal their thought2s. 3He that never thinks0 never can be wise. 2With curious art the0 brain, too finely w2rought, 3Preys on herself, an1d is destroyed by th2ought. 3The rich are too ind0olent, the poor too 2weak, 3to bear the insuppor1table fatigue of thi2nking. 3What exile from hims0elf can flee? 2 To zones, though m1ore and more remote,2Still, still pursues1, where'er I be, 2 The blight of life1 - the demon Thought2. 3Thinking is but an i0dle waste of thought2, 3And naught is everyt1hing, and everything2 is naught. 3Every real thought o0n every real subject2 knocks the wind out3of somebody or other1. 2Mind unemployed is m0ind unenjoyed. 2Many a man fails to 0become a thinker for2 the sole reason 3that his memory is t1oo good. 2It is remarkable to 0what lengths people 2will go to avoid 3thought. 1Thinking is the grea0test torture in the 2world for most 3people. 1Men fear thought as 0they fear nothing el2se on earth - 3more than ruin, more1 even than death. 2We have rudiments of0 reverence for the h2uman body, 3but we consider as n1othing the rape of t2he human mind. 3It is good to tame t0he mind, which is of2ten difficult to 3hold in and flighty,1 rushing wherever it2 listeth; a tamed 3mind brings happines1s. Let the wise man2 guard his thoughts,3for they are difficu1lt to perceive, very2 artful, and they 3rush wherever they l1ist: thoughts well 2guarded bring 3happiness. 1A well-prepared mind0 hopes in adversity 2and fears in prosper1ity. 2Write down the thoug0hts of the moment. 2Those that come 3unsought for are com1monly the most valua2ble. 3All truly wise thoug0hts have been though2t already thousands 3of times; but to mak1e them truly ours, w2e must think them 3over again honestly,1 till they take root2 in our personal 3experience. 1If a man's eye is on0 the Eternal, his in2tellect will grow. 3It is well for the h0eart to be naive 2and for the mind not1 to be. 2Thought is a tremend0ous living force - 2Thought gains streng1th by repetition, 2Thought moulds your 1character and shapes2 your destiny. 3Therefore centre you1r thoughts on God an2d sublime Truths. 3If you wish to know 0the mind of a man, 2listen to his words.1I am the Mind - the 0Eternal Teacher. I 2am the Father of the3Word - the Redeemer 1of all men - and in 2the nature of the 3wise the Word takes 1flesh. By means of 2the Word, the world 3is saved. I, Though1t - the Father of th2e Word, the Mind - 3come only unto men t1hat are holy and goo2d, pure and 3merciful, and that l1ive piously and reli2giously, and my 3presence is an inspi1ration and a help to2 them, for when I 3come they immediatel1y know all things an2d adore the 3Universal Father. B1efore such wise and 2philosophic ones 3die, they learn to r1enounce their senses2, knowing that these3are the enemies of t1heir immortal souls.2At the end of the wo0rlds, all things sle2ep: he alone is 3awake in Eternity. 1Then from his infini2te space new worlds 3arise and awake, a u1niverse which is a v2astness of thought. 3In the consciousness1 of the Eternal One 2the universe is, 3and into him it retu1rns. 2What a man thinks in0 his spirit in the w2orld, 3that he does after h1is departure from th2e world 3when he becomes a sp1irit. 2Lull'd in the countl0ess chambers of the 2brain, 3Our thoughts are lin1k'd by many a hidden2 chain; 3Awake but one, and l1o, what myriads rise2! 3Each stamps its imag1e as the other flies2. 3The beings of the mi0nd are not of clay; 2Essentially immortal1, they create 2And multiply in us a1 brighter ray 2And more beloved exi1stence. 2Thought is the wind,0 knowledge the sail,2and mankind the vess1el. 2Sudden a thought cam0e like a full-blown 2rose, 3Flushing his brow. 1Time to me this trut0h has taught, 2 (Tis a treasure wo1rth revealing) 2More offend from wan1t of thought 2 Than from want of 1feeling. 2The charm of a deed 0is its doing; 2the charm of a life 1is its living; 2the soul of the thin1g is the thought. 2Thinking is like lov0ing and dying. 2Each of us must do i1t for himself. 2Few people think mor0e than two or three 2times a year. 3I have made an inter1national reputation 2for myself by 3thinking once or twi1ce a week 2Seven Watchmen sitti0ng in a tower, 2 Watching what had 1come upon Mankind, 2Showed the Man the G1lory and the Power 2 And bade him shape1 the Kingdom to his 2mind... 3That a man's mind is1 wont to tell him mo2re, 3 Than Seven Watchme1n sitting in a tower2. 3The difference betwe0en intelligence and 2education is this- 3that intelligence wi1ll make you a good l2iving. 3The social states of0 human kinds 2Are made by multitud1es of minds, 2And after multitudes1 of years 2A little human growt1h appears 2Worth having, even t1o the soul 2Who sees most plain,1 it's not the whole.2The consciousness of0 man is a veil conce2aling 3the reality of God i1n the state of non-m2anifestation. 3We are ourselves the1 veil covering God's2 reality. 3Our time is a very s0hadow that passeth a2way. 3Time is a sort of ri0ver of passing event2s, and strong 3is its current; no s1ooner is a thing bro2ught to sight 3than it is swept by 1and another takes it2s place, and 3this too will be swe1pt away. 2Time has only a rela0tive existence. 2Time is only an illu0sion produced by the2 succession of our 3states of consciousn1ess as we travel thr2ough eternal 3duration, and it doe1s not exist where no2 consciousness 3exists in which the 1illusion can be prod2uced; but "lies 3asleep." 1Time destroys the sp0eculations of man, 2but it confirms the 1judgment of nature. 2Time will bring to l0ight whatever is hid2den; it will cover 3up and conceal what 1is now shining in sp2lendor. 3A man that is young 0in years may be old 2in hours, 3if he has lost no ti1me. 2What a day may bring0, a day may take awa2y. 3Nothing is there to 0come, and nothing pa2st, 3But an eternal Now d1oes always last. 2The past and future 0are veiled; but the 2past wears the 3widow's veil, the fu1ture the virgin's. 2Time is the most und0efinable yet paradox2ical of things; 3the past is gone, th1e future is not come2, and the present 3becomes the past, ev1en while we attempt 2to define it, and, 3like the flash of th1e lightning, at once2 exists and expires.3Time, the cradle of 0hope, but the grave 2of ambition, is the 3stern corrector of f1ools, but the saluta2ry counsellor of the3wise, bringing all t1hey dread to the one2, and all they 3desire to the other.1...He that has made 2it his friend will 3have little to fear 1from his enemies, bu2t he that has made 3it his enemy will ha1ve little to hope fr2om his friends. 3The future influence0s the present just a2s much as the past. 3We do not know what 0to do with this shor2t life, 3yet we want another 1which will be eterna2l. 3The present contains0 nothing more than t2he past, 3and what is found in1 the effect is alrea2dy in the cause. 3The farther backward0 you can look, 2the farther forward 1you are likely to se2e. 3When you sit with a 0nice girl for two ho2urs, 3 you think it's onl1y a minute. 2But when you sit on 1a hot stove for a mi2nute, 3 you think it's two1 hours. 2That's relativity. 1This instant is thin0e; the next is in th2e womb of futurity, 3and thou knowest not1 what it may bring f2orth; 3maturity of the unbo1rn is in the keeping2 of the Law. 3Each future state is1 that thou has creat2ed in the present. 3A thousand years in 0thy sight are but as2 yesterday when 3it is past, and as a1 watch in the night.2There is a bridge be0tween Time and Etern2ity; and this 3bridge is the Spirit1 of man. Neither da2y nor night cross 3that bridge, nor old1 age, nor death nor 2sorrow. 3The velocity with wh0ich time flies is in2finite, 3as is most apparent 1to those who look ba2ck. 3In comparison with h0eaven and earth, man2 is like a mayfly. 3But compared to the 1great Way, heaven an2d earth, too, are 3like a bubble and a 1shadow. Only the pr2imal spirit and the 3true nature overcome1 time and space. 2Whether time is long0 or short, and wheth2er space is broad 3or narrow, depend up1on the mind. Those 2whose minds are at 3leisure can feel one1 day as a millennium2, and those 3whose thoughts are e1xpansive can perceiv2e a small house 3to be as spacious as1 the universe. 2The only true time w0hich a man can prope2rly call his own, 3 is that which he h1as all to himself; 2the rest, though in 1some sense he may be2 said to live it, 3 is other people's 1time, not his. 2Time, whose tooth gn0aws away everything 2else, 3is powerless against1 truth. 2The present is only 0a mathematical line 2which divides 3that part of eternal1 duration which we c2all the future, 3from that which we c1all the past. 2Eternity is the infi0nite existence of ev2ery moment of time. 3If we conceive time 1as a line, then this2 line will be 3crossed at every poi1nt by the lines of e2ternity. 3Every point of the l1ine of time will be 2a line in eternity. 3The line of time wil1l be a plane of eter2nity. 3Eternity has one dim1ension more than tim2e. 3Time has no division0s to mark its passin2g. 3There is never a thu1nderstorm to announc2e 3the beginning of a n1ew month or year. 2The wheels of time a0re mysterious. Time2 is a concept of 3mind. Without mind,1 there is no concept2 of time. 3Annihilate the mind.1 You will go beyond2 time. You will 3enter the realm of T1imeless. You will l2ive in the Eternal. 3The future comes one0 day at a time. 2In the city, time be0comes visible. 2Time is the wisest c0ounsellor. 2Time discovers truth0. 2Time is the sovereig0n physician of our p2assions. 3Time is the greatest0 of innovators. 2One always has time 0enough, if one will 2apply it well. 3The beautifier of th0e dead, 2Adorner of the ruin,1 comforter 2And the only healer 1when the heart hath 2bled. 3Here is a day now be0fore me; 2a day is a fortune a1nd an estate; 2who loses a day lose1s life. 2Neither will the wav0e which has passed b2e called back; 3nor can the hour whi1ch has gone by retur2n. 3Swift speedy time, f0eathered with flying2 hours, 3Dissolves the beauty1 of the fairest brow2. 3What a folly to drea0d the thought of thr2owing away 3life at once, and ye1t have no regard of 2throwing it away 3by parcels and piece1meal. 2We take no note of t0ime but from its los2s. 3Tobacco, coffee, alc0ohol, hashish, prusi2c acid, strychnine, 3are weak dilutions: 1 the surest poison i2s time. 3In time there is no 0present, 2In eternity no futur1e, 2In eternity no past.1If you lose an hour 0in the morning, you 2have to hunt for it 3the rest of the day.1Do not dwell in the 0past. Do not dream 2of the future. 3Concentrate the mind1 on the present mome2nt. 3Leave the past behin0d; 2leave the future beh1ind; 2leave the present be1hind. 2Thou are then ready 1to go to the other s2hore. 3Never more shalt tho1u return to a life t2hat ends in death. 3Make use of time, le0t not advantage slip2; 3Beauty within itself1 should not be waste2d: 3Fair flowers that ar1e not gather'd in th2eir prime 3Rot and consume them1selves in little tim2e. 3Enjoy the present sm0iling hour. 2And put it out of Fo1rtune's power. 2If you want the pres0ent to be different 2from the past, 3study the past. 1Know the true value 0of time; snatch, sei2ze, and enjoy 3every moment of it. 1 No idleness, no laz2iness, no 3procrastination: ne1ver put off till to-2morrow what you 3can do to-day. 1Dost thou love life?0then do not squander1 time, 2for that is the stuf1f life is made of. 2Devote each day to t0he object then in ti2me 3and every evening wi1ll find something do2ne. 3Since time is not a 0person we can overta2ke when he is past, 3let us honor him wit1h mirth and cheerful2ness of heart while 3he is passing. 1Much may be done in 0those little shreds 2and patches of time,3which every day prod1uces, and which most2 men throw away, 3but which neverthele1ss will make at the 2end of it no small 3deduction from the l1ife of a man. 2Write it on your hea0rt that every day is2 the best day 3in the year. No man1 has learned anythin2g rightly, until 3he knows that every 1day is Doomsday. 2Make good of every m0inute that is at thy2 disposal. Time is 3a rat that slowly cu1ts the thread of lif2e. It may break at 3any moment. Believe1 not that you will b2e living to enjoy 3the objects of life.1 Death may lay his 2icy hands on this 3body and may shatter1 it at any time. 2Where Mind and each 0believing mind are n2ot divided, 3And undivided are ea1ch believing mind an2d Mind, 3This is where words 1fail; 2For it is not for th1e past, present, and2 future. 3Ah, fill the Cup: - 0what boots it to rep2eat 3How Time is slipping1 underneath our Feet2: 3 Unborn To-morrow, 1and dead Yesterday, 2Why fret about them 1if To-day be sweet! 2From the beginning o0f Time, through eter2nities, 3 I was among His hid1den treasures. 2From Nothing He call1ed me forth, but at 2the End of Time 3 I shall be recalled1 by the King. 2All my possessions f0or a moment of time.2I wasted time, and n0ow doth time waste m2e. 3Like as the waves ma0ke towards the pebbl2ed shore, 3So do our minutes ha1sten to their end. 2Time is the king of 0men; 2he is both their par1ent, 2and he is their grav1e, 2and gives them what 1he will, 2not what they crave.1Enjoy the present ho0ur, 2Be thankful for the 1past, 2And neither fear nor1 wish 2Th' approaches of th1e last. 2Ever eating, never c0loying, 2All-devouring, all-d1estroying, 2Never finding full r1epast, 2Till I eat the world1 at last. 2Tomorrow is a satire0 on today, 2And shows its weakne1ss. 2Time is a continual 0over-dropping of mom2ents, 3which fall down one 1upon the other and e2vaporate. 3Lost, yesterday, som0ewhere between sunri2se and sunset, 3two golden hours, ea1ch set with sixty di2amond minutes. 3No reward is offered1, for they are gone 2forever! 3Thou shoreless flood0, which in thy ebb a2nd flow 3claspest the limits 1of mortality. 2So here hath been da0wning another blue d2ay: 3 Think, wilt thou l1et it slip useless a2way? 3Out of eternity this1 new day is born; 2 Into eternity at n1ight 'twill return. 2Time is but the stre0am I go a fishing in2. 3Enjoy the spring of 0love and youth, 2 To some good angel1 leave the rest; 2For time will teach 1thee soon the truth,2 There are no birds1 in last year's nest2. 3That is the land of 0lost content, 2I see it shining pla1in, 2The happy highways w1here I went 2And cannot come agai1n. 2You wake up in the m0orning, and lo! you2r purse is magically3filled with twenty-f1our hours of the mag2ic tissue of the 3universe of your lif1e. No one can take 2it from you. No one3receives either more1 or less than you re2ceive. Waste your 3infinitely precious 1commodity as much as2 you will, and the 3supply will never be1 withheld from you. 2 Moreover, you 3cannot draw on the f1uture. Impossible t2o get into debt. 3You can only waste t1he passing moment. 2You cannot waste 3tomorrow. It is kep1t for you. 2Time is breath - try0 to understand this.2The Future is someth0ing which everyone r2eaches at the rate 3of sixty minutes an 1hour, whatever he do2es, whoever he is. 3Hours are Time's sha0fts, 2and one comes winged1 with death. 2The winds and the wa0ves are always on th2e side of the 3ablest navigators. 1To travel hopefully 0is a better thing th2an to arrive. 3No road to happiness0 or sorrow... 2Find them in yoursel1f. 2The bright and dark 0paths out of the wor2ld have always 3existed. Whoso take1s the former, return2s not; he who 3chooses the latter, 1returns. 2It is not fit that e0very man should trav2el; 3it makes a wise man 1better, and a fool w2orse. 3Travel is the frivol0ous part of serious 2lives, 3and the serious part1 of frivolous ones. 2Thou canst not trave0l on the path 2before thou hast bec1ome that Path itself2. 3The map appears to u0s more real than the2 land. 3They change their sk0y, not their mind, w2ho cross the sea. 3A busy idleness poss1esses us: we seek a2 happy life, with 3ships and carriages:1 the object of our 2search is present 3with us. 1The journey of high 0honor lies not in sm2ooth ways. 3Travel, in the young0er sort, is a part o2f education; in the 3elder, a part of exp1erience. He that tr2avelleth into a 3country before he ha1th some entrance int2o the language, 3goeth to school, and1 not to travel. 2Men may change their0 climate, but they c2annot change their 3nature. A man that 1goes out a fool cann2ot ride or sail 3himself into common 1sense. 2As the Spanish prove0rb says, 2 "He who would bring1 home the wealth of 2the Indies 3 must carry the wea1lth of the Indies wi2th him." 3So it is in travelli1ng; a man must carry2 knowledge with 3him, if he would bri1ng home knowledge. 2A good holiday is on0e spent among people2 whose notions of 3time are vaguer than1 yours. 2To see the world is 0to judge the judges.2Those who visit fore0ign nations, 2but who associate on1ly with their own co2untrymen, 3change their climate1, but not their cust2oms; 3they see new meridia1ns, but the same men2; 3and with heads as em1pty as their pockets2, 3return home with tra1velled bodies, but u2ntravelled minds. 3We are all naturally0 seekers of wonders.2 We travel far to 3see the majesty of o1ld ruins, the venera2ble forms of the 3hoary mountains, gre1at waterfalls, and g2alleries of art. 3And yet the world wo1nder is all around u2s; the wonder of 3setting suns, and ev1ening stars, of the 2magic spring-time, 3the blossoming of th1e trees, the strange2 transformations of 3the moth... 1 Nature's way is st0raight and unerring,2 foursquare and 3calm, great and tole1rant. Everything is2 accomplished 3without the necessit1y of fabricated purp2ose. 3 Man's way is equal1ly self-evident. Hi2s internal 3principles are corre1ct; his external act2s are righteous; 3his results are cert1ain. 2Following the Noble 0Path is like enterin2g a dark room with 3a light in the hand;1 the darkness will a2ll be cleared away, 3and the room will be1 filled with light. 2As long as you watch0 the way, 2As long as your step1s are steady, 2As long as your wisd1om is unimpaired, 2So long will you rea1p profit. 2The world is a great0 book, of which they2 who never stir from3home read only a pag1e. 2Good company in a jo0urney makes the way 2seem shorter. 3The use of travellin0g is to regulate ima2gination by reality,3and instead of think1ing how things may b2e, to see them as 3they are. 1All travel has its a0dvantages. If the t2raveler visits 3better countries, he1 may learn to improv2e his own; and if 3fortune carries him 1to worse, he may lea2rn to enjoy his own.3How much a dunce tha0t has been sent to r2oam 3Excels a dunce that 1has been kept at hom2e. 3Travel is the perfec0t liberty to think, 2feel, do just as 3one pleases. 1The traveled mind is0 the universal mind 2educated from 3exclusiveness and eg1otism. 2Travel gives a chara0cter of experience t2o our knowledge, 3and brings the figur1es on the tablet of 2memory into strong 3relief. 1One main factor in t0he upward trend of a2nimal life has been 3the power of wanderi1ng. 2One may know the wor0ld without going out2 of doors. 3One may see the Way 1of Heaven without lo2oking through 3 the windows. 1The further one goes1, the less one knows2. 3Therefore the sage k1nows without going a2bout, 3Understands without 1seeing, 2And accomplishes wit1hout any action. 2See one promontory, 0one mountain, one se2a, one river, and 3see all. 1Everywhere is nowher0e. 2When a person spends1 all his time in for2eign travel, 3he ends by having ma1ny acquaintances, bu2t no friends. 3A traveller without 0observation is a bir2d without wings. 3A traveller! By my 0faith, you have grea2t reason to be sad. 3I fear you have sold1 your own lands, to 2see other men's; 3then to have seen mu1ch, and to have noth2ing, 3is to have rich eyes1 and poor hands. 2Never any weary trav0eller complained tha2t he came too 3soon to his journey'1s end. 2Usually speaking, th0e worst-bred person 2in company is a 3young traveller just1 returned from abroa2d. 3He traveled here, he0 traveled there- 2But not the value of1 a hair 2Was heart or head th1e better. 2The soul is no trave0ller; the wise man s2tays at home... 3Travelling is a fool1's paradise. 2It is not worth whil0e to go around the w2orld 3to count the cats in1 Zanzibar. 2Modern travelling is0 not travelling at a2ll; it is merely 3being sent to a plac1e, and very little d2ifferent from 3becoming a parcel. 1The traveller's-eye 0view of men and wome2n is not satisfying.3A man might spend hi1s life in trains and2 restaurants and 3know nothing of huma1nity at the end. To2 know, one must be 3an actor as well as 1a spectator. 2The Wanderer finds s0uccess through small2ness. 3Perseverance brings 1good fortune to The 2Wanderer. 3As the bee takes the0 essence of a flower2and flies away witho1ut destroying its be2auty and perfume, 3so let the sage wand1er in this life. 2If a traveller does 0not meet with one wh2o is his better, 3or his equal, let hi1m firmly keep to his2 solitary journey; 3there is no companio1nship with a fool. 2Walk while ye have t0he light, lest darkn2ess come upon you. 3If you will be a tra0veller, have always.2..two bags very 3full, that is one of1 patience and anothe2r of money. 3Rather see the wonde0rs of the world abro2ad than, 3living dully slaggar1dized at home, wear 2out thy youth 3with shapeless idlen1ess. 2A traveller must hav0e the back of an ass2 to bear all, 3a tongue like the ta1il of a dog to flatt2er all, 3the mouth of a hog t1o eat what is set be2fore him, 3the ear of a merchan1t to hear all and sa2y nothing. 3A wise traveler neve0r despises his own c2ountry. 3A man should know so0mething of his own c2ountry, too, before 3he goes abroad. 1One hundred and one 0subtle ways come fro2m the heart. 3One of them rises to1 the crown of the he2ad. 3This is the way that1 leads to immortalit2y; 3the others lead to d1ifferent ends. 2The great Way is cal0m and large-hearted,2For it nothing is ea1sy, nothing is hard;2Small views are irre1solute, 2The more in haste th1e tardier they go. 2White pebbles just f0rom the river-stream2, 3Stray leaves red in 1the cold autumn: 2No rain is falling o1n the mountain path,2But my clothes are d1amp in the fine gree2n air. 3When I was at home, 0I was in a better pl2ace; 3but travellers must 1be content. 2We that acquaint our0selves with every zo2ne 3And pass both tropic1s and behold the pol2es, 3When we come home ar1e to ourselves unkno2wn 3And unacquainted sti1ll with our own soul2s. 3We sack, we ransack 0to the utmost sands 2Of native kingdoms, 1and of foreign lands2: 3We travel sea and so1il; we pry, and prow2l, 3We progress, and we 1prog from pole to po2le. 3Let observation with0 extensive view, 2Survey mankind from 1China to Peru; 2Remark each anxious 1toil, each eager str2ife, 3And watch the busy s1cenes of crowded lif2e. 3I should like to spe0nd the whole of my l2ife in traveling 3abroad, if I could a1nywhere borrow anoth2er life to spend 3afterwards at home. 1O'er the glad water 0of the dark blue sea2, 3Our thoughts as boun1dless, and our souls2 as free, 3Far as the breeze ca1n bear, the billows 2foam, 3Survey our empire, a1nd behold our home! 2Does the road wind u0p-hill all the way? 2 Yes, to the very 1end. 2Will the day's journ1ey take the whole lo2ng day? 3 From morn to nigh1t, my friend. 2There is no unhappin0ess like the misery 2of sighting land 3again after a cheerf1ul, careless voyage.2Down to Gehenna or u0p to the throne, 2 He travels fastest1 who travels alone. 2I am fevered with th0e sunset, 2 I am fretful with 1the bay, 2For the wander-thirs1t is on me 2 And my soul is in 1Cathay. 2Life is a pilgrimage0. The wise man does2 not rest by the 3roadside inns. He m1arches direct to the2 illimitable domain 3of eternal bliss, hi1s ultimate destinati2on. 3Sincerity and truth 0are the basis of eve2ry virtue. 3Truth is always stra0ightforward. 2The language of trut0h is simple. 2An honest man is alw0ays a child. 2Abstract truth is th0e eye of reason. 2Honesty is the first0 chapter of the book2 of wisdom. 3Everything that is p0ossible to be believ2ed 3is an image of the t1ruth. 2Truth makes on the o0cean of nature no on2e track of light; 3every eye, looking o1n, finds its own. 2Say not unto thyself0, Behold, truth bree2deth hatred, and 3I will avoid it; dis1simulation raiseth f2riends, and I will 3follow it. Are not 1the enemies made by 2truth, better than 3the friends obtained1 by flattery? 2The Supreme Truth ex0ists both internally2 and externally, 3 in the moving and 1non-moving. 2He is beyond the pow1er of material sense2s to see or know. 3Although, far, far a1way, he is also near2 to all. 3They who imagine tru0th in untruth, and s2ee untruth in truth,3 never arrive at tr1uth, but follow vain2 desires. 3They who know truth 1in truth, and untrut2h in untruth, 3 arrive and follow 1true desires. 2The spirits of truth0 and falsehood 2Struggle within the 1heart of man; 2Truth born out of th1e spring of Light, 2Falsehood from the w1ell of darkness. 2And according as man1 inherits truth 2So will he avoid dar1kness. 2Truth is confirmed b0y inspection and del2ay; 3falsehood by haste a1nd uncertainty. 2The opposite of what0 is rumored about me2n and things is 3often the truth. 1There are two kinds 0of truth: those of 2reasoning and those 3of fact. The truths1 of reasoning are ne2cessary and their 3opposite is impossib1le; the truths of fa2ct are contingent 3and their opposite i1s possible. 2All men wish to have0 truth on their side2; 3but few to be on the1 side of truth. 2Every truth is true 0only up to a point. 2 Beyond that, by way3of counter-point, it1 becomes untruth. 2As scarce as truth i0s, the supply has al2ways been in excess 3of the demand. 1A truth that dishear0tens because it is t2rue 3is of more value tha1n the most stimulati2ng of falsehoods. 3There are trivial tr0uths and the great t2ruths. 3The opposite of a tr1ivial truth is plain2ly false. 3The opposite of a gr1eat truth is also tr2ue. 3The essence of Truth0 is eternal; 2Individual truths wa1x and wane. 2To know the truth is0 easy; 2to follow it is diff1icult. 2If the slayer thinks0 that he kills, and 2if the slain thinks 3that he dies, neithe1r knows the ways of 2truth. The Eternal 3in man cannot kill: 1 the Eternal in man 2cannot die. 3Absolute truth is in0destructible. 2Being indestructible1, it is eternal. 2Being eternal, it is1 self-existent. 2Being self-existent,1 it is infinite. 2Being infinite, it i1s vast and deep. 2Being vast and deep,1 it is transcendenta2l and intelligent. 3Seven years of silen0t inquiry are needfu2l for a man to 3learn the truth, but1 fourteen in order t2o learn how to 3make it known to his1 fellowmen. 2Our minds possess by0 nature an insatiabl2e desire to know 3the truth. 1There is another old0 poet whose name I d2o not now remember 3who said, "Truth is 1the daughter of Time2." 3Children and fools s0peak true. 2There are three part0s in truth: 2 first, the inquiry,1 which is the wooing2 of it; 3 secondly, the knowl1edge of it, which is2 the presence of it;3 and thirdly, the be1lief, which is the e2njoyment of it. 3Truth emerges more r0eadily from error th2an from confusion. 3Truth is compared in0 Scripture to a stre2aming fountain; 3if her waters flow n1ot in a perpetual pr2ogression, 3they sicken into a m1uddy pool of conform2ity and tradition. 3We know the truth, n0ot only by the reaso2n, but also by 3the heart. 1Truth will be upperm0ost one time or anot2her, like cork, 3though kept down in 1the water. 2Truth comes home to 0the mind so naturall2y that when we learn3it for the first tim1e, it seems as thoug2h we did no more 3than recall it to ou1r memory. 2The greatest friend 0of truth is Time, 2her greatest enemy i1s Prejudice, 2and her constant com1panion is Humility. 2There is nothing so 0powerful as truth; 2and often nothing so1 strange. 2Truth like a torch, 0the more 'tis shook,2 it shines. 3Truth that has merel0y been learned is li2ke an artificial 3limb, a false tooth,1 a waxen nose; it ad2heres to us only 3because it is put on1. But truth acquire2d by thought of our 3own is like a natura1l limb; it alone rea2lly belongs to us. 3History has its trut0h; and so has legend2 hers. 3The nobler the truth0 or sentiment, the l2ess imports the 3question of authorsh1ip. 2No man thoroughly un0derstands a truth un2til he has 3contended against it1. 2All truths are Truth0s of Period, and not2 truths for 3eternity; that whate1ver great fact has h2ad strength and 3vitality enough to m1ake itself real, whe2ther of religion, 3morals, government, 1or of whatever else,2 and to find place 3in this world, has b1een a truth for the 2time, and as good 3as men were capable 1of receiving. 2Truth, like the sun,0 submits to be obscu2red; 3but like the sun, on1ly for a time. 2The stream of time s0weeps away errors, a2nd leaves the 3truth for the inheri1tance of humanity. 2Truth must necessari0ly be stranger than 2fiction; for 3fiction is the creat1ion of the human min2d and therefore 3congenial to it. 1Facts do not cease t0o exist because they2 are ignored. 3O thou who art enamo0ured with the beauti2es of Truth, 3and hast fixed thy h1eart on the simplici2ty of her charms, 3hold fast thy fideli1ty unto her, and for2sake her not: 3the constancy of thy1 virtue shall crown 2thee with honour. 3If you are sincere, 0you have success in 2your heart, 3And whatever you do 1succeeds. 2Truth is so great a 0perfection, that if 2God would render 3himself visible to m1en, he would choose 2light for his 3body and truth for h1is soul. 2The King of Truth is0 the king of kings. 2 His ancestry is 3of the purest and th1e highest. He not o2nly rules the four 3quarters of the worl1d, but he is also Lo2rd of Wisdom and 3Protector of all Vir1tuous Teachings. 2Truth is always the 0strongest argument. 2What we have in us o0f the image of God 2is the love of truth1 and justice. 2There is no greater 0delight than to be c2onscious of 3sincerity on self-ex1amination. 2The gift of Truth co0nquers all gifts. 2The taste of Truth c1onquers all sweetnes2s. 3The joy of Truth con1quers all pleasures.2The loss of desires 1conquers all sorrows2. 3Truth may be stretch0ed, but cannot be br2oken, and always 3gets above falsehood1, as oil does above 2water. 3No pleasure is compa0rable to the standin2g upon the 3vantage ground of Tr1uth. 2No legacy is so rich0 as honesty. 2Truth is as impossib0le to be soiled by a2ny outward touch as 3the sunbeam. 1Who ever knew truth 0put to the worse in 2a free and open 3encounter? 1An honest man's the 0noblest work of God.2A man who seeks trut0h and loves it 2must be reckoned pre1cious to any human s2ociety. 3Truth and, by conseq0uence, liberty, will2 always be the 3chief power of hones1t men. 2Truth is always cong0ruous and agrees wit2h itself; 3every truth in the u1niverse agrees with 2all others. 3One of the sublimest0 things in the world2 is plain truth. 3The finest and noble0st ground on which p2eople can live 3is truth; the real w1ith the real; a grou2nd on which nothing 3is assumed. 1Truth is tough. It 0will not break, like2 a bubble, 3at a touch; nay, you1 may kick it about a2ll day, 3like a football, and1 it will be round an2d full at evening. 3Truth is the secret 0of eloquence and vir2tue, the basis of 3moral authority; it 1is the highest summi2t of art and 3of life. 1The spirit of truth 0and the spirit of fr2eedom- 3they are the pillars1 of society. 2In the mountains of 0truth, you never cli2mb in vain. 3The nearer one appro0aches the Truth, the2 happier one 3becomes. For the es1sential nature of Tr2uth is positive 3Absolute Bliss. 1The man who speaks t0he truth is always a2t ease. 3Truth lies wrapped u0p and hidden in the 2depths. 3Candor and generosit0y, unless tempered b2y due moderation, 3lead to ruin. 1There is nothing tru0e anywhere, 2The true is nowhere 1to be seen; 2If you say you see t1he true, 2This seeing is not t1he true one. 2Truth, like roses, o0ften blossoms upon a2 thorny stem. 3Take note, take note0, O world, 2To be direct and hon1est is not safe. 2All truths are not t0o be told. 2Truth does not do so0 much good in the wo2rld, 3as the appearance of1 it does evil. 2A man that should ca0ll everything by its2 right name, 3would hardly pass th1e streets without be2ing knocked 3down as a common ene1my. 2'Tis not enough your0 counsel still be tr2ue; 3Blunt truths more mi1schief than nice fal2sehoods do. 3There are truths whi0ch are not for all m2en, 3nor for all times. 1Between falsehood an0d useless truth ther2e is little 3 difference. 1As gold which he can1not spend will make 2no man rich, 3so knowledge which c1annot apply will mak2e no man wise. 3It is easier to perc0eive error than to f2ind truth, 3for the former lies 1on the surface and i2s easily seen, 3while the latter lie1s in the depth, 2where few are willin1g to search for it. 2A truth that's told 0with bad intent 2Beats all the lies y1ou can invent. 2Truth is too simple 0for us; we do not li2ke those who unmask 3our illusions. 1The dictum that trut0h always triumphs ov2er persecution is 3one of those pleasan1t falsehoods which m2en repeat after one 3another till they pa1ss into commonplace,2 but which all 3experience refutes. 1Sincerity is no test0 of truth - no evide2nce of correctness 3of conduct. You may1 take poison sincere2ly believing it the 3needed medicine, but1 will it save your l2ife? 3A little sincerity i0s a dangerous thing,2and a great deal of 1it is absolutely fat2al. 3When truth is buried0 underground it grow2s, it chokes, it 3gathers such an expl1osive force than on 2the day it bursts 3out, it blows up eve1rything with it. 2The truth is often a0 terrible weapon of 2aggression. 3It is possible to li1e, and even to murde2r, with the truth. 3To speak the truth i0s the most difficult2 thing in the world;3and one must study a1 great deal and for 2a long time in order3to be able to speak 1the truth. The wish2 alone is not 3enough. To speak th1e truth one must kno2w what the truth 3is and what a lie is1, and first of all i2n oneself. And 3this nobody wants to1 know. 2Sometimes it is easi0er to see clearly in2to the liar 3than into the man wh1o tells the truth. 2Truth, like light, 3blinds. Falsehood, 1on the contrary, is 2a beautiful twilight3that enhances every 1object. 2Truth is but one; th0y doubts are of thin2e own raising. 3He who made virtues 1what they are, plant2ed also in thee a 3knowledge of their p1re-eminence. Act as2 Soul dictates to 3thee, and the end sh1all be always right.2The high minded man 0must care more for t2he truth 3than for what people1 think. 2Honesty is the best 0policy. 2To thine own self be0 true, 2And it must follow, 1as the night the day2, 3Thou canst not then 1be false to any man.2When it is not in ou0r power to determine2 what is true, 3we ought to follow w1hat is most probable2. 3A man should never b0e ashamed to own he 2has been in the 3wrong, which is but 1saying, in other wor2ds, that he is 3wiser to-day than he1 was yesterday. 2Remember, as long as0 you live, that noth2ing but strict truth3can carry you throug1h the world, with ei2ther your conscience3or your honor unwoun1ded. 2You need not tell th0e truth, unless to t2hose who have a 3right to know it all1. But let all you t2ell be truth. 3The greatest homage 0we can pay to truth 2is to use it. 3When in doubt tell t0he truth. 2There are four truth0s in this world: 2first, all living be1ings rise from ignor2ance; 3second, all objects 1of craving desire ar2e impermanent, 3 uncertainty and su1ffering; 2third, all the exist1ing things are also 2impermanent, 3 uncertainty and su1ffering; 2fourth, there is not1hing that can be cal2led an "ego," 3 and there is no su1ch thing as "mine" i2n all the world. 3 Her terrible tale 0 You can't assail, 1With truth it quite 1agrees; 2 Her taste exact 1 Her faultless fact1Amounts to a disease1. 2How happy is he born0 and taught 2 That serveth not a1nother's will; 2Whose armour is his 1honest thought, 2 And simple truth h1is utmost skill. 2For truth is preciou0s and divine; 2Too rich a pearl for1 carnal swine. 2Truth is the most po0werful thing in the 2world, 3since even fiction i1tself must be govern2ed by it, 3and can only please 1by its resemblance. 2Truth is a good dog;0 but always beware o2f barking too close 3to the heels of an e1rror, lest you get y2our brains kicked 3out. 1Truth is a gem that 0is found at a great 2depth; 3whilst on the surfac1e of this world, 2all things are weigh1ed by the false scal2e of custom. 3Truth crushed to ear0th shall rise again:2 Th' eternal years 1of God are hers; 2But Error, wounded, 1writhes in pain, 2 And dies among his1 worshippers. 2Think truly, and thy0 thoughts 2 Shall the world's 1famine feed. 2Speak truly, and eac1h word of thine 2 Shall be a fruitfu1l seed. 2Live truly, and thy 1life shall be 2 A great and noble 1creed. 2A vague sense of Nat0ure's Unity, blended2 with a dim 3perception of an all1-pervading Spiritual2 Essence, has been 3remarked among the e1arliest manifestatio2ns of the Human 3Mind. Everywhere it1 was the dim remembr2ance, uncertain 3and indefinite, of t1he original truth ta2ught by God to the 3first men. 1I have discovered th0e art of deceiving d2iplomats. 3I speak the truth, a1nd they never believ2e me. 3Get but the truth on0ce uttered, and 'tis2 like 3A star new-born that1 drops into its plac2e 3And which, once circ1ling in its placid r2ound, 3Not all the tumult o1f the earth can shak2e. 3An eager pursuit of 0fortune 2 is inconsistent wi1th a severe devotion2 to truth. 3The heart must grow 1tranquil 2 before the thought1 can become searchin2g. 3Lunatics, drunkards 0and children sometim2es give out the 3truth unconsciously,1 as if inspired by h2eaven. 3I am not struck so m0uch by the diversity2 of testimony 3as by the many-sided1ness of truth. 2In wartime, truth is0 so precious that sh2e sould always be 3attended by a bodygu1ard of lies. 2Man with the burning0 soul 2Has but an hour of b1reath 2To build a ship of t1ruth 2On which his soul ma1y sail - 2Sail on the sea of d1eath, 2For death takes toll1Of beauty, courage, 1youth, 2Of all but truth. 1Knowledge is an infi0nite series of image2s in the memory. 3Understanding, which1 penetrates into the2ir significance, is 3the power to perceiv1e their essence and 2interrelationship. 3Intuition is the cle0ar conception of the2 whole at once. 3Instinct is the nose0 of the mind. 2Instinct is intellig0ence incapable of se2lf-consciousness. 3In order to contract0, It is necessary fi2rst to expand. 3In order to weaken, 1It is necessary firs2t to strengthen. 3In order to destroy,1 It is necessary fir2st to promote. 3In order to grasp, I1t is necessary first2 to give. 3This is called subtl1e light. 2The weak and the ten1der overcome the har2d and the strong. 3To know is not to kn0ow, unless someone e2lse has known that 3I know. 1Learned men delight 0in knowledge; the ig2norant do not. 3Honey bees resort to1 flowers; not so the2 fly. 3Sell your cleverness0 and buy bewildermen2t; 3Cleverness is mere o1pinion, bewilderment2 is intuition. 3All things I thought0 I knew; but now con2fess 3The more I know I kn1ow, I know the less.2Ignorance is the cur0se of God; 2knowledge is the win1g wherewith we fly t2o heaven. 3The light of the und0erstanding- 2humility kindleth an1d pride covereth. 2It is a common fault0 never to be satisfi2ed with our fortune,3nor dissatisfied wit1h our understanding.2Knowledge is proud t0hat he has learned s2o much; 3Wisdom is humble tha1t he knows no more. 2That is indeed twofo0ld knowledge, which 2profits alike 3by the folly of the 1foolish, and the wis2dom of the wise. 3It is both a shield 1and a sword; it borr2ows its security 3from the darkness, a1nd its confidence fr2om the light. 3Not every end is a g0oal. The end of a m2elody is not its 3goal; however, if th1e melody has not rea2ched its end, it 3would also not have 1reached its goal. A2 parable. 3The noumenal is the 0real, the phenomenal2, the reflection, 3and the wise man see1ks the former rather2 than the latter. 3To understand is har0d. 2Once one understands1, action is easy. 2At the outset, the m0an does not comprehe2nd the nature of 3prevailing forces no1r does he perceive t2hem as a connected 3whole. This superfi1cial view is accepta2ble for the masses, 3but the superior man1 should know better.2He that hath knowled0ge spareth his words2. 3Know thou the self (0spirit) as riding in2 a chariot, 3The body as the char1iot. 2Know thou the intell1ect as the chariot-d2river, 3And the mind as the 1reins. 2The senses, they say1, are the horses; 2The objects of sense1, what they range ov2er. 3The self combined wi1th senses and mind 2Wise men call "the e1njoyer." 2Only by undivided de0votional service can2 The Eternal be 3understood and seen 1directly. Only in t2his way can you 3enter into the myste1ries of eternal unde2rstanding. 3One part of knowledg0e consists in being 2ignorant 3of such things as ar1e not worthy to be k2nown. 3Not to know what hap0pened before one was2 born is always to 3be a child. 1Nature has given us 0the seeds of knowled2ge, 3not knowledge itself1. 2He who knows one thi0ng, knows all things2; 3and he who knows all1 things, knows one t2hing. 3He who is careless i1n all respects, is i2n danger; 3he who is not carele1ss in all respects, 2is free from danger.3One man is equivalen0t to all Creation. 2One man is a World i1n miniature. 2Mark well how varied0 are aspects of the 2immovable one, 3And know that the fi1rst reality is immov2able; 3Only when this insig1ht is attained, 2The true working of 1suchness is understo2od. 3Indeed, the whole wo0rld is imagination, 2 while He is the Re1al in Reality. 2Whoever understand t1his 2 knows all the secr1ets of the Spiritual2 Path. 3Whoever acquires kno0wledge but does not 2practice it 3is as one who plough1s but does not sow. 2The knower and the k0nown are one. Simpl2e people imagine 3that they should see1 God, as if He stood2 there and they 3here. This is not s1o. God and I, we ar2e one in knowledge. 3All our knowledge ha0s its origins in our2 perceptions. 3The eye of the under0standing is like the2 eye of the sense; 3for as you may see g1reat objects through2 small crannies 3or holes, so you may1 see great axioms of2 nature through 3small and contemptib1le instances. 2Knowledge always des0ires increase; it is2 like fire, 3which must first be 1kindled by some exte2rnal agent, 3but which will after1wards propagate itse2lf. 3Man is not born to s0olve the problem of 2the universe, but 3to find out what he 1has to do; and to re2strain himself 3within the limits of1 his comprehension. 2The word knowledge, 0strictly employed, i2mplies three things:3truth, proof, and co1nviction. 2The instinctive feel0ing of a great peopl2e is often wiser 3than its wisest men.1To be conscious that0 you are ignorant is2 a great step to 3knowledge. 1Knowledge comes, but0 wisdom lingers. 2To know that we know0 what we know, 2and that we do not k1now what we do not k2now, 3that is true knowled1ge. 2Knowledge once gaine0d casts a light beyo2nd its own 3immediate boundaries1. 2A man only understan0ds what is akin to s2omething already 3existing in himself.1Knowledge by itself 0does not give unders2tanding. Nor is 3understanding increa1sed by an increase o2f knowledge alone. 3Understanding depend1s upon the relation 2of knowledge to 3being. Understandin1g is the resultant o2f knowledge and 3being...It appears o1nly when a man feels2 and senses what 3is connected with it1. 2There is a great dif0ference between know2ing a thing and 3understanding it. Y1ou can know a lot ab2out something and 3not really understan1d it. 2Just as rain exists 0in the clouds, butte2r in milk, fragrance3in flowers, so also 1God is hidden in all2 these names and 3forms. 1Because the Father o0f all things consist2s of Life and Light,3whereof man is made.1 If, therefore, a m2an shall learn and 3understand the natur1e of Life and Light,2 then he shall pass 3into the eternity of1 Life and Light. 2By wisdom a house is0 built, 2 and by understandi1ng it is established2; 3by knowledge the roo1ms are filled 2 with all precious 1and pleasant riches.2A wise man is mighti1er than a strong man2; 3 and a man of knowl1edge than he who has2 strength. 3The Valley Spirit ne0ver dies. 2It is called the Mys1terious Female. 2And the doorway of t1he Mysterious Female2Is the base from whi1ch Heaven and Earth 2spring. 3It is there within u1s all the time. 2Draw upon it as you 1will, it never runs 2dry. 3Amongst all things, 0knowledge, they say,2 is truly the best 3thing; from its not 1being liable ever to2 be stolen, from 3its not being purcha1sable, and from its 2being imperishable. 3That jewel knowledge0 is great riches, wh2ich is not plundered3by kinsmen, nor carr1ied off by thieves, 2nor decreased by 3giving. 1Whatever we well und0erstand we express c2learly, 3and words flow with 1ease. 2Knowledge is comfort0able and a necessary2 retreat and shelter3for us in advanced a1ge, but if we do not2 plant it while 3young, it will give 1us no shade when we 2grow old. 3Knowledge is more th0an equivalent to for2ce. 3The master of mechan1ics laughs at streng2th. 3For love is ever the0 beginning of Knowle2dge, 3as fire is of light.1Every generation enj0oys the use of a vas2t hoard bequeathed 3to it by antiquity, 1and transmits that h2oard, augmented 3by fresh acquisition1s, to future ages. 2Knowledge is the ant0idote to fear. 2The best part of our0 knowledge is that w2hich teaches us 3where knowledge leav1es off and ignorance2 begins. 3When we begin to und0erstand we grow poli2te, happy, 3ingenuous. 1Of all men's miserie0s the bitterest is t2his: 3to know so much and 1to have control over2 nothing. 3When there is an inc0rease in the mode of2 ignorance, 3madness, illusion, i1nertia and darkness 2are manifested. 3He that increaseth k0nowledge increaseth 2sorrow. 3To know all things i0s not permitted. 2True knowledge is a 0virtue of the talent2ed, 3 but harmful to tho1se without discernme2nt. 3Spring water free of1 impurity, 2 entering the ocean1, becomes undrinkabl2e. 3The first and wisest0 of them all profess2ed 3To know this only, t1hat he nothing knew.2The defects of the u0nderstanding, like t2hose of the face, 3grow worse as we gro1w old. 2What we do not under0stand we do not poss2ess. 3The tree of knowledg0e is not that of lif2e. 3When a man's knowled0ge is not in order, 2the more of it he 3has the greater will1 be his confusion. 2We do not know one m0illionth of one perc2ent about anything. 3Our knowledge is a r0eceding mirage in an2 expanding desert of3ignorance. 1Know thyself as the 0pride of His creatio2n, the link 3uniting divinity and1 matter; behold a pa2rt of God Himself 3within thee; remembe1r thine own dignity 2nor dare descend to 3evil or meanness. 1We must learn not to0 disassociate the ai2ry flower from the 3earthy root, for the1 flower that is cut 2off from its root 3fades, and its seeds1 are barren, whereas2 the root, secure 3in mother earth, can1 produce flower afte2r flower and bring 3their fruit to matur1ity. 2Get wisdom: and wit0h all thy getting ge2t understanding. 3Know thyself. 0When you know a thin0g, 2 hold that you know1 it; 2when you know not a 1thing, 2 allow that you kno1w it not; 2this is knowledge. 1It is well for one t0o know more than he 2says. 3This precept descend0ed from Heaven: kno2w thyself. 3Behold but One in al0l things; 2it is the second tha1t leads you astray. 2If you have knowledg0e, let others light 2their candles 3at it. 1There is timing in t0he whole life of the2 warrior, in his 3thriving and declini1ng, in his harmony a2nd discord. 3Similarly, there is 1timing in the Way of2 the merchant, in 3the rise and fall of1 capital. All thing2s entail rising and 3falling timing. You1 must be able to dis2cern this. 3There is hardly any 0place or any company2 where you may not 3gain knowledge, if y1ou please; almost ev2erybody knows some 3one thing, and is gl1ad to talk about tha2t one thing. 3All our progress is 0an unfolding, like t2he vegetable bud, 3you have first an in1stinct, then an opin2ion, then a know- 3ledge, as the plant 1has root, bud and fr2uit. Trust the 3instinct to the end,1 though you can rend2er no reason. 3The more extensive a0 man's knowledge of 2what has been done, 3the greater will be 1his power of knowing2 what to do. 3Better know nothing 0than half-know many 2things. 3Beware of false know0ledge; 2it is more dangerous1 than ignorance. 2Scrutinize the myste0ry underlying all th2ings. 3Seek in higher dimen1sions of understandi2ng a meaning behind 3 all our sufferings1. 2Unmask what appears 1to be the caprice of2 human destiny - 3How we long to becom1e that which we hard2ly believe we are! 3Two stones build two0 houses, three stone2s build six houses, 3four build twenty-fo1ur houses, five buil2d one hundred and 3twenty houses, six b1uild seven hundred a2nd twenty houses 3and seven build five1 thousand and forty 2houses. From 3thence further go an1d reckon what the mo2uth cannot express 3and the ear cannot h1ear. 2If you love knowledg0e, you will be a mas2ter of knowledge. 3What you have come t1o know, pursue by ex2ercise, what you 3have not learned, se1ek to add to your kn2owledge, for it is 3as reprehensible to 1hear a profitable sa2ying and not grasp 3it as to be offered 1a good gift by one's2 friend and not 3accept it. Believe 1that many precepts a2re better than much 3wealth, for wealth q1uickly fails us, but2 precepts abide 3through all time. 1As the blazing fire 0turns firewood to as2hes, so does the 3fire of knowledge bu1rn to ashes all reac2tions to material 3activities. 1How can the outpouri0ng of the divine ess2ence flowing out of 3 the essence give y1ou the experience of2 the essence?... 3Henceforth there is 1no need for proof in2 order to grasp thy 3 reality. 1Seldom ever was any 0knowledge given to k2eep, but to impart; 3the grace of this ri1ch jewel is lost in 2concealment. 3The improvement of t0he understanding is 2for two ends: 3first, for our own i1ncrease of knowledge2; secondly, to 3enable us to deliver1 and make out that k2nowledge to 3others. 1But honest instinct 0comes a volunteer; 2Sure never to o'er-s1hoot, but just to hi2t, 3While still too wide1 or short in human w2it. 3Reasoning at every s0tep he treads, 2Man yet mistakes his1 way, 2Whilst meaner things1, whom instinct lead2s, 3Are rarely known to 1stray. 2A goose flies by a c0hart which the Royal2 Geographical 3Society could not im1prove. 210 is the most perfe0ct number because it2 includes unity, 3which created everyt1hing, and zero, symb2ol of matter and 3chaos, whence everyt1hing emerged. In it2s figures it 3comprehends the crea1ted and the uncreate2d, the commencement 3and the end, power a1nd force, life and a2nnihilation. By 3the study of this nu1mber, we find the re2lationships of all 3things. 1If a little knowledg0e is dangerous, wher2e is the man who 3has so much as to be1 out of danger? 2Knowledge - The smal0l part of ignorance 2that we arrange and 3classify. 1I had six honest ser0ving men - They taug2ht me all I knew: 3Their names were Whe1re and What and When2 - and Why and How 3and Who. 1The root of revenge,0 is in the weakness 2of the Soul; 3the most abject and 1timorous are the mos2t addicted to it. 3We do not correct th0e man we hang; 2we correct others by1 him. 2Revenge is an act of0 passion; vengeance 2of justice. 3Injuries are revenge1d; crimes are avenge2d. 3There is nothing so 0easy as to revenge a2n offence; 3but nothing is so ho1nourable as to pardo2n it. 3He hurts the good wh0o spares the bad. 2Punishment, that is 0the justice for the 2unjust. 3Severities should be0 dealt out all at on2ce, 3 that by their sudd1enness they may give2 less offense; 3benefits should be h1anded out drop by dr2op, 3 that they may be r1elished the more. 2By taking revenge, a0 man is but even wit2h his enemy; 3but in passing over 1it, he is superior. 2Revenge, at first th0ough sweet, bitter e2re long, 3back on itself recoi1ls. 2Crime and punishment0 grow out of one ste2m. Punishment is a 3fruit that, unsuspec1ted, ripens within t2he flower of the 3pleasure that concea1led it. 2Why seeketh thou rev0enge, O man! with w2hat purpose is 3it that thou pursues1t it? Thinkest thou2 to pain thine 3adversary by it? Kn1ow that thou thyself2 feelest its 3greatest torments. 1Before a thunderstor0m there is a build-u2p of tension which 3is only relieved by 1the explosive force 2of thunder and 3lightning. In human1 affairs there must 2be a clear 3distinction between 1the penalties for sm2all and great 3crimes. Retribution1 for wrongdoing must2 be swiftly and 3surely applied if gr1eater problems are t2o be prevented. 3If you have committe0d iniquity, you must2 expect to suffer; 3for vengeance with i1ts sacred light shin2es upon you. 3Vengeance comes not 0openly, either upon 2you or any wicked 3man, but steals sile1ntly and imperceptib2ly, placing its 3foot on the bad. 1We will not punish a0 man because he hath2 offended, but that 3he may offend no mor1e; nor does punishme2nt ever look to the 3past, but to the fut1ure; for it is not t2he result of 3passion, but that th1e same thing be guar2ded against in time 3to come. 1There's small reveng0e in words, 2but words may be gre1atly revenged. 2There is only one th0ing worse than Injus2tice, 3and that is Justice 1without her sword in2 her hand. 3When Right is not Mi1ght, it is Evil. 2Revenge upon a wrong0-doer brings only on2e day's pleasure. 3For him who bears wi1th patience evil fro2m another, 3there will be praise1 until the world sha2ll end. 3If there were no str0ong hand at the serv2ice of good in the 3world, evil would mu1ltiply. 2In punishing folly 0It does not further 1one 2To commit transgress1ions. 2The only thing that 1futhers 2Is to prevent transg1ressions. 2It (revenge) is swee0ter far than flowing2 honey. 3Heaven is not always0 angry when he strik2es, 3But most chastises t1hose whom most he li2kes. 3The work of eradicat0ing crimes is not by2 making 3punishment familiar,1 but formidable. 2Revenge is profitabl0e, gratitude is expe2nsive. 3Think not thou art r0evenged of thine ene2my when thou slayest3him; thou puttest hi1m beyond thy reach, 2thou givest him 3quiet, and thou take1st from thyself all 2means of hurting him3The people are not a0fraid of death. 2Why, then, threaten 1them with death?... 2There is always the 1master executioner (2Heaven) who kills. 3To undertake executi1ons for the master e2xecutioner is like 3 hewing wood for th1e master carpenter. 2Whoever undertakes t1o hew wood for the m2aster carpenter 3 rarely escapes inj1uring his own hands.2Blood stains can not0 be removed by more 2blood; 3resentment can not b1e removed by more re2sentment; 3resentment can be re1moved only by forget2ting it. 3If the people be led0 by laws, and unifor2mity sought to be 3given them by punish1ments, they will try2 to avoid the 3punishment, but have1 no sense of shame. 2Nothing is more comm0on than for great th2ieves to ride in 3triumph when small o1nes are punished. 2Revenge is always th0e weak pleasure 2of a little and narr1ow mind. 2He that studieth rev0enge keepeth his own2 wounds green. 3Revenge...is like a 0rolling stone, which2, when a man hath 3forced up a hill, wi1ll return upon him w2ith a greater 3violence, and break 1those bones whose si2news gave it motion.3Many without punishm0ent, but none withou2t sin. 3Revenge is barren: 0its delight is murde2r, 3and its satiety, des1pair. 2Be always more ready0 to forgive, than to2 return an injury; 3he that watches for 1an opportunity of re2venge, lieth in 3wait against himself1, and draweth down m2ischief on his own 3head. 1Punishment should no0t be meted out in an2ger. It must fulfil3the purpose of preve1nting unreasonable e2xcesses by others. 3Let the punishment b0e equal with the off2ence. 3The best sort of rev0enge is not to be li2ke him who did the 3injury. 1Heat not a furnace f0or your foe so hot 2That it doth singe y1ourself. 2To make punishments 0efficacious, two thi2ngs are necessary. 3They must never be d1isproportioned to th2e offence, and they 3must be certain. 1Distrust all in whom0 the impulse to puni2sh is powerful. 3O think not, bold ma0n, because thy punis2hment is delayed, 3that the arm of God 1is weakened; neither2 flatter thyself 3with hopes that He w1inketh at thy doings2. His eye pierceth 3the secrets of every1 heart, and He remem2bereth them for 3ever... 1Eye for eye, tooth f0or tooth, hand for h2and, foot for foot. 3The ways of the gods0 are long, but in th2e end 3they are not without1 strength. 2The divine wrath is 0slow indeed in venge2ance, 3but it makes up for 1its tardiness by the2 severity 3of the punishment. 1The man against whom0 you feel anger in y2our heart 3Is not to be admonis1hed by mere words. 2First, subdue him by1 force, 2And then use your we1apon of words. 2Had all his hairs be0en lives, my great r2evenge had stomach 3for them all. 1If I wished to punis0h a province, I woul2d have it governed 3by philosophers. 1Revenge - A debt in 0the paying of which 2the greatest knave 3is honest and sincer1e, and, so far as he2 is able, punctual. 3Punishment - The jus0tice that the guilty2 deal out to those 3that are caught. 1Virtue is a kind of 0health, beauty and g2ood habit 3of the soul. 1Virtue is the golden0 mean between two vi2ces, 3the one of excess an1d the other of defic2iency. 3Virtue is a habit of0 the mind, 2consistent with natu1re and moderation an2d reason. 3Virtue consists in a0voiding vice, and is2 the highest wisdom.3Virtue is beauty. 0Virtue, like health,0 is the harmony of t2he whole man. 3Virtue is but heroic0 bravery, to do the 2thing thought to be 3true, in spite of al1l enemies of flesh o2r spirit, in despite3of all temptations o1r menaces. 2The man of superior 0virtue is not consci2ous of his virtue, 3 and in this way he1 really possesses vi2rtue. 3The man of inferior 1virtue never loses s2ight of his virtue, 3 and in this way he1 loses his virtue. 2The superior man thi0nks always of virtue2; 3the common man think1s of comfort. 2Virtue is the beauty0, and vice the defor2mity, of the soul. 3Holiness is what is 0loved by all the god2s. It is loved 3because it is holy, 1and not holy because2 it is loved. 3He who dies for virt0ue, does not perish.2The high-spirited ma0n may indeed die, bu2t he will not stoop 3to meanness. Fire, 1though it may be que2nched, will not 3become cool. 1Virtue is health, vi0ce is sickness. 2Virtue is persecuted0 more by the wicked 2than it is loved by 1the good. 2Certainly, virtue is0 like precious odors2, 3most fragrant when t1hey are incensed or 2crushed, 3for prosperity doth 1best discover vice, 2but adversity doth b1est discover virtue.2Some rise by sin, an0d some by virtue fal2l. 3Some people with gre0at virtues are disag2reeable, 3while others with gr1eat vices are deligh2tful. 3He's armed without t0hat's innocent withi2n. 3Our virtues and vice0s spring from one ro2ot. 3Virtue by calculatio0n is the virtue of v2ice. 3Virtue: Climbing a 0hill 2Vice: Running down.1To produce things an0d to rear them, 2To produce, but not 1to take possession o2f them, 3To act, but not to r1ely on one's own abi2lity. 3To lead them, but no1t to master them - 2This is called profo1und and secret virtu2e. 3This is the law of G0od, that virtue only2 is firm, 3and cannot be shaken1 by a tempest. 2Just as treasures ar0e uncovered from the2 earth, 3so virtue appears fr1om good deeds, 2and wisdom appears f1rom a pure and peace2ful mind. 3To walk safely throu1gh the maze of human2 life, 3one needs the light 1of wisdom and the gu2idance of virtue. 3Virtue is more to ma0n than either water 2or fire. I have 3seen men die from tr1eading on water and 2fire, but I have 3never seen a man die1 from treading the c2ourse of virtue. 3Purity engenders Wis0dom, Passion avarice2, and Ignorance 3folly, infatuation a1nd darkness. 2Virtue consisteth of0 three parts, - 2temperance, fortitud1e, and justice. 2Although a man may w0ear fine clothing, i2f he lives 3peacefully; and is g1ood, self-possessed,2 has faith 3and is pure; and if 1he does not hurt any2 living being, 3he is a holy man... 1Fewer possess virtue0, than those who wis2h us to believe 3that they possess it1. 2God looks with favor0 at pure, not full, 2hands. 3Nature does not best0ow virtue; to be goo2d is an art. 3The holy man, though0 he be distressed, 2Does not eat food mi1xed with wickedness.2The lion, though hun1gry, 2Will not eat what is1 unclean. 2I find that the best0 virtue I have 2has in it some tinct1ure of vice. 2Virtue is like a ric0h stone, best plain 2set. 3Virtue and genuine g0races in themselves 2speak what no words 3can utter. 1We need greater virt0ues to sustain good 2fortune than bad. 3To be innocent is to0 be not guilty; 2but to be virtuous i1s to overcome our ev2il inclinations. 3There is nothing tha0t is meritorious but2 virtue and 3friendship; and inde1ed friendship itself2 is only a part 3of virtue. 1Virtue is everywhere0 the same, because i2t comes from God, 3while everything els1e is of men. 2Virtue is the state 0of war, and to live 2in it 3we have always to co1mbat with ourselves.2The virtues, like th0e Muses, are always 2seen in groups. 3A good principle was1 never found solitar2y in any breast. 3Innocence is always 0unsuspicious. 2The only reward of v0irtue is virtue. 2It has ever been my 0experience that folk2s who have no vices 3have very few virtue1s. 2The truly innocent a0re those who not onl2y are guiltless 3themselves, but who 1think others are. 2They who disbelieve 0in virtue because ma2n has never been 3found perfect, might1 as reasonably deny 2the sun because 3it is not always noo1n. 2With virtue you cann0ot be entirely poor.2.. 3Without it you canno1t be really rich. 2Virtue cannot live i0n solitude: neighbo2rs are sure to 3grow up around it. 1The fragrance of the0 flower is never bor2ne against the 3breeze; but the frag1rance of human virtu2e diffuses 3itself everywhere. 1The most virtuous of0 all men is he that 2contents himself 3with being virtuous 1without seeking to a2ppear so. 3Honor is the reward 0of virtue. 2The glory of riches 0and of beauty is fra2il and transitory; 3virtue remains brigh1t and eternal. 2Virtue knowing no ba0se repulse, shines w2ith untarnished 3honour; nor does she1 assume or resign he2r emblems of 3honour by the will o1f some popular breez2e. 3Virtue is that perfe0ct good which is the2 complement of a 3happy life; the only1 immortal thing that2 belongs to 3mortality. 1Nature has placed no0thing so high that v2irtue can not 3reach it. 1Virtue is sufficient0 of herself for happ2iness. 3For virtue only find0s eternal Fame. 2Of all the benefits 0that virtue confers 2upon us, 3the contempt of deat1h is one of the grea2test. 3Our life is short, b0ut to expand that sp2an to vast eternity 3is virtue's work. 1A heart unspotted is0 not easily daunted.2Virtue may be assail0ed, but never hurt, 2Surprised by unjust 1force, but not enthr2alled; 3Yea, even that which1 mischief meant most2 harm 3Shall in the happy t1rial prove most glor2y. 3Innocence is like po0lished armor; it ado2rns and defends. 3Virtue alone is the 0unerring sign of a n2oble soul. 3Sweet are the slumbe0rs of the virtuous m2an! 3Virtue alone outbuil0ds the pyramids: 2Her monuments shall 1last, when Egypt's f2all. 3Innocence is its own0 Defence. 2Virtue, the strength0 and beauty of the s2oul, 3Is the best gift of 1Heaven: a happiness2That even above the 1smiles and frowns of2 fate 3Exalts great Nature'1s favourites: a wea2lth 3That never encumbers1, nor can be transfe2rred. 3Riches adorn the dwe0lling; virtue adorns2 the person. 3Those who have virtu0e always in their mo2uths, and neglect it3in practice, are lik1e a harp, which emit2s a sound pleasing 3to others, while its1elf is insensible of2 the music. 3There are some jobs 0in which it is impos2sible for a man to 3be virtuous. 1The man who is not v0irtuous can never be2 happy. 3That which leads us 0to the performance o2f duty by offering 3pleasure as its rewa1rd, is not virtue, b2ut a deceptive 3copy and imitation o1f virtue. 2Although a cloth be 0washed a hundred tim2es, 3How can it be render1ed clean and pure 2If it be washed in w1ater which is dirty?2To purify the heart 0is like the person o2rdered to uproot a 3tree. However much 1he reflects and stru2ggles to do so, he 3is unable. So he sa1ys to himself, "I'll2 wait until I'm 3more powerful and th1en uproot it." But 2the longer he waits 3and leaves the tree 1to grow, the larger 2and stronger it 3becomes while he onl1y becomes weaker. 2Our virtues are most0 frequently but vice2s disguised. 3The smallest speck i0s seen on snow. 2Virtue has need of l0imits. 2Few men have virtue 0to withstand the hig2hest bidder. 3Virtue is not heredi0tary. 2The absence of tempt0ation is the absence2 of virtue. 3Innocence is but a p0oor substitute for e2xperience. 3Most people are so c0onstituted that they2 can only be 3virtuous in a certai1n routine; an irregu2lar course of life 3demoralizes them. 1Virtue often trips a0nd falls on the shar2p-edged rock 3of poverty. 1Virtue is insufficie0nt temptation. 2The door to virtue..0. 2Heavy and hard to pu1sh. 2A noble spirit disda0ineth the malice of 2fortune; 3his greatness of Sou1l is not to be cast 2down. 3INNOCENCE. Supreme s0uccess. 2Perseverance further1s. 2If someone is not as1 he should be, 2He has misfortune, 1And it does not furt1her him 2To undertake anythin1g. 2Turn yourself not aw0ay from three best t2hings: 3Good Thought, Good W1ord, and Good Deed. 2If he applies The Et0ernal to himself his2 virtue will be 3 genuine; 1If he applies it to 1his family his virtu2e will be abundant; 3If he applies it to 1his village his virt2ue will be lasting; 3If he applies it to 1his country his virt2ue will be full; 3If he applies it to 1the world his virtue2 will be universal. 3To practice five thi0ngs under all circum2stances constitutes 3perfect virtue; thes1e five are gravity, 2generosity of soul, 3sincerity, earnestne1ss, and kindness. 2The shortest and sur0est way to live with2 honor in the world,3is to be in reality 1what we would appear2 to be; all human 3virtues increase and1 strengthen themselv2es by the practice 3and experience of th1em. 2One should seek virt0ue for its own sake 2and not from hope 3or fear, or any exte1rnal motive. It is 2in virtue that 3happiness consists, 1for virtue is the st2ate of mind which 3tends to make the wh1ole of life harmonio2us. 3A thankful heart is 0the parent of all vi2rtues. 3Every man has his ap0pointed day; life is2 brief and 3irrevocable; but it 1is the work of virtu2e to extend 3our fame by our deed1s. 2The only path to a t0ranquil life is thro2ugh virtue. 3Virtues are acquired0 through endeavor, 2Which rests wholly u1pon yourself. 2So, to praise others1 for their virtues 2Can but encourage on1e's own efforts. 2Recommend to your ch0ildren virtue; that 2alone can make 3happy, not gold. 1No man can purchase 0his virtue too dear,2 for it is the only 3thing whose value mu1st ever increase wit2h the price it has 3cost us. Our integr1ity is never worth s2o much as when we 3have parted with our1 all to keep it. 2He that has energy e0nough to root out a 2vice, should go 3further, and try to 1plant a virtue in it2s place; otherwise 3he will have his lab1or to renew. A stro2ng soil that has 3produced weeds may b1e made to produce wh2eat. 3The Lamp burns brigh0t when wick and oil 2are clean. 3Better keep yourself0 clean and bright; y2ou are the window 3through which you mu1st see the world. 2One who is to enjoy 0the purity of both b2ody and mind walks 3the path to enlighte1nment, breaking the 2net of selfish, 3impure thoughts and 1evil desires. He wh2o is calm in mind 3acquires peacefulnes1s and thus is able t2o cultivate his 3mind day and night w1ith more diligence. 2Virtue, dear friend,0 needs no defence, 2The surest guard is 1innocence: 2None knew, till guil1t created fear, 2What darts or poison1'd arrows were. 2It is the edge and t0emper of the blade t2hat make a good 3sword, not the richn1ess of the scabbard;2 and so it is 3not money or possess1ions that make man c2onsiderable, but 3his virtue. 1There is no ornament0 like virtue, 2There is no misery l1ike worry, 2There is no protecti1on like patience, 2There is no friend e1qual to generosity. 2Food, sleep, fear, p0ropagation; each is 2the common property 3of men with brutes. 1 Virtue is really th2eir additional 3distinction; devoid 1of virtue, they are 2equal with brutes. 3They fulfill their v0ows and fear the day2 whose calamity 3shall be far-reachin1g; and in spite of t2heir own want, 3they give food to th1e poor, and the orph2an and the prisoner.3True merit, like a r0iver, the deeper it 2is, 3the less noise it ma1kes. 2Shall ignorance of g0ood and ill 2Dare to direct the e1ternal will? 2Seek virtue, and of 1that possest, 2To Providence resign1 the rest. 2Against the head whi0ch innocence secures2, 3Insidious malice aim1s her dart in vain; 2Turned backwards by 1the powerful breath 2of heaven. 3And he by no uncommo0n lot 2Was famed for virtue1s he had not. 2One whose heart the 0holy forms 2Of young imagination1 have kept pure. 2Blessed is the memor0y of those 2 who have kept them1selves unspotted fro2m the world! 3Yet more blessed and1 more dear the memor2y of those 3 who have kept them1selves unspotted in 2the world. 3There is virtue in c0ountry houses, in ga2rdens and orchards, 3in fields, streams a1nd groves, in rustic2 recreations and 3plain manners, that 1neither cities nor u2niversities enjoy. 3Of all the virtues n0ecessary to the comp2letion of the 3perfect man, there i1s none to be more de2licately implied 3and less ostentatiou1sly vaunted than tha2t of exquisite 3feeling or universal1 benevolence. 2Ascetic: one who ma0kes a necessity of v2irtue. 3The Saints are the S0inners who keep on t2rying. 3Vision - The art of 0seeing things invisi2ble. 3The eye sees what it0 brings the power to2 see. 3A moment's insight i0s sometimes worth a 2life's experience. 3He who could foresee0 affairs three days 2in advance 3would be rich for th1ousands of years 2Men are deceived by 0what the eyes see, 2but the gods are swa1yed by what the hear2t conceals. 3The easier a matter 0is reckoned 2the more difficult i1t proves at the last2; 3for this reason the 1Sage sees difficulti2es in everything, 3and therefore he enc1ounters no difficult2ies. 3If a man take no tho0ught about what is d2istant, 3he will find sorrow 1near at hand. 2Perception is strong0 and sight weak. In2 strategy it is 3important to see dis1tant things as if th2ey were close and 3to take a distanced 1view of close things2. 3It is easy to see, h0ard to foresee. 2The future hides in 0it gladness and sorr2ow. 3And finds with keen,0 discriminating sigh2t, 3Black's not so black1 - nor white so very2 white. 3Man, if he compare h0imself with all that2 he can see, 3is at the zenith of 1power; 2but if he compare hi1mself with all that 2he can conceive, 3he is at the nadir o1f weakness. 2We are always lookin0g into the future, 2but we see only the 1past. 2Man was created with0 two eyes, so that w2ith one he may see 3God's greatness, and1 with the other his 2own lowliness. 3When things are goin0g well it is all too2 easy to become 3overconfident and no1t give proper attent2ion to one's duties.3If this tendency is 1recognised early it 2may be corrected and3no harm will be done1. 2Sound judgement, wit0h discernment, is th2e best of seers. 3One who sees the Sup0ersoul accompanying 2the individual soul 3in all bodies and wh1o understands that n2either the soul nor 3the Supersoul is eve1r destroyed, actuall2y sees. 3I shall always consi0der the best guesser2 the best prophet. 3Men's minds perceive0 second causes, 2But only prophets pe1rceive the action of2 the First Cause. 3When clouds are seen0 wise men put on the2ir cloaks. 3I know of no way of 0judging the future b2ut by the past. 3If the doors of perc0eption were cleansed2every thing would ap1pear to man as it is2, infinite. 3For man has closed h1imself up, 2till he sees all thi1ngs thru' narrow chi2nks of his cavern. 3The past cannot be c0hanged, 2the future is still 1in your power. 2The future is not in0 the hands of fate b2ut in ours. 3Vision looks inward 0and becomes a duty. 2Vision looks outward1 and becomes aspirat2ion. 3Vision looks upward 1and becomes faith. 2The only way to pred0ict the future is to2 have power to shape3the future. Those i1n possession of abso2lute power can not 3only prophesy and ma1ke their prophesies 2come true, but they 3can also lie and mak1e their lies come tr2ue. 3The rich man plans f0or tomorrow... 2The poor man for tod1ay. 2The light of the Spi0rit is invisible, co2ncealed in all 3beings. It is seen 1by the seers of the 2subtle, when their 3vision is keen and c1lear. 2Is not he a sage who0 neither anticipates2 deceit nor suspects3bad faith in others,1 yet is prompt to de2tect them when they 3appear? 1The eyes are more ex0act witnesses than t2he ears. 3Few things are broug0ht to a sucessful is2sue by 3impetuous desire, bu1t most by calm and p2rudent forethought. 3He who lives a hundr0ed years, not seeing2 the highest law, 3a life of one day is1 better if a man see2s the highest law. 3The eye of the maste0r will do more work 2than both of his han1ds. 2The veil which cover0s the face of futuri2ty 3is woven by the hand1 of mercy. 2A man, foreseeing th0at another will do a2 certain act, and 3in nowise controllin1g or even influencin2g him may use that 3action as an instrum1ent to effect his ow2n purposes. 3The greatest thing a0 human soul ever doe2s in this world... 3To see clearly is po1etry, prophecy and r2eligion all in one. 3Where there is no vi0sion, the people per2ish. 3What we look for doe0s not come to pass. 2God finds a way for 1what none foresaw. 2You can never plan t0he future by the pas2t. 3He who foresees cala0mities, suffers them2 twice over. 3Forethought we may h0ave, undoubtedly, bu2t not foresight. 3He who anticipates h0is century is genera2lly persecuted when 3living, and is alway1s pilfered when dead2. 3All eyes do not see 0alike. Even the vis2ible creation is 3not, for all who loo1k upon it, of one fo2rm and one color. 3Our brain is a book 1printed within and w2ithout, and the two 3writings are, with a1ll men, more or less2 confused. 3It is sure to be dar0k if you shut your e2yes. 3It is as hard to see0 one's self as to lo2ok backwards 3without turning roun1d. 2Among all forms of m0istake, prophecy is 2the most gratuitous.3I never think of the0 future. It comes s2oon enough. 3You can only predict0 things after they'v2e happened. 3Study the past if yo0u would divine the f2uture. 3With your spirit ope0n and unconstricted,2look at things from 1a high point of view2. 3Our grand business i0s not to see what li2es 3dimly at a distance,1 but to do what lies2 clearly at hand. 3The best preparation0 for the future, 2is the present well 1seen to, and the las2t duty done. 3Before the Soul can 0see, the Harmony wit2hin must be 3attained, and fleshl1y eyes be rendered b2lind to all 3illusion. 1It is a mistake to l0ook too far ahead. 2Only one link in the3chain of destiny can1 be handled at a tim2e. 3To know the road ahe0ad 2Ask those coming bac1k. 2The man is quiet, bu0t firm as a rock, ye2t sensitive to the 3first imperceptible 1signs of impending c2hanges. He does 3not delay in taking 1action. 2Behold the universe 0in the Glory of God;2 and all that lives 3and moves on earth. 1 Leaving the transie2nt, find joy in the 3Eternal; set not you1r heart on another's2 possession. 3I wonder that a soot0hsayer doesn't laugh2whenever he sees ano1ther soothsayer. 2A wise God shrouds t0he future in obscure2 darkness. 3His eye is ever open0 and sleepeth not, f2or it continually 3keepeth watch. And 1the appearance of th2e lower is according3to the aspect of the1 higher light....His2 two nostrils like 3mighty galleries, wh1ence His spirit rush2es forth over all. 3There was the Door t0o which I found no k2ey; 3There was the Veil t1hrough which I might2 not see. 3The Eternal looked u0pon me for a moment 2with his eye of 3power, and annihilat1ed me in his being, 2and became manifest 3to me in his essence1. I saw I existed t2hrough him. 3Whoe'er thou art, th0y master see; 2He was - or is - or 1is to be. 2The future is purcha0sed by the present. 2You can make a bette0r living in the worl2d as a soothsayer 3than as a truthsayer1. 2To see a World in a 0Grain of Sand 2And a Heaven in a Wi1ld Flower, 2Hold Infinity in the1 palm of your hand 2And Eternity in an h1our. 2The more sand has es0caped from the hourg2lass of our life, 3the clearer we shoul1d see through it. 2Hence in a season of0 calm weather though2 inland far we be, 3Our souls have sight1 of that immortal se2a 3 which brought us h1ither, 2Can in a moment trav1el thither, 2And see the children1 sport upon the shor2e, 3And hear the mighty 1waters rolling everm2ore. 3Poets are the hierop0hants of an unappreh2ended inspiration; 3the mirrors of the g1igantic shadows whic2h futurity casts 3upon the present. 1The eye speaks with 0an eloquence and tru2thfulness surpassing3speech. It is the w1indow out of which t2he winged thoughts 3often fly unwittingl1y. It is the tiny m2agic mirror on whose3crystal surface the 1moods of feeling fit2fully play, like the3sunlight and shadow 1on a still stream. 2Prophecy - To observ0e that which has pas2sed, and guess it 3will happen again. 1The power is yours, 0but not the sight; 2 You see not upon w1hat you tread; 2You have the ages fo1r your guide, 2 But not the wisdom1 to be led. 2I always avoid proph0esying beforehand, b2ecause it is much 3better policy to pro1phesy after the even2t has already taken 3place. 1Speed is the essence0 of war. 2War - the trade of b0arbarians, and the a2rt of bringing the 3greatest physical fo1rce to bear on a sin2gle point. 3War - An act of viol0ence whose object is2 to constrain the 3enemy, to accomplish1 our will. 2The essence of war i0s violence. 2War is the science o0f destruction. 2War is a series of c0atastrophes which re2sult in victory. 3The essence of war i0s fire, famine, and 2pestilence. 3They contribute to i1ts outbreak; they ar2e among its 3weapons; they become1 its consequences. 2An ancient strategis0t has said: 2 I dare not take th1e offensive but I ta2ke the defensive; 3 I dare not advance1 an inch but I retre2at a foot. 3This means: 1 To march without f1ormation, 2 To stretch one's a1rm without showing i2t, 3 To confront enemie1s without seeming to2 meet them, 3 To hold weapons wi1thout seeming to hav2e them. 3Military tactics are0 like unto water; fo2r water in its 3natural course runs 1away from high place2s and hastens 3downwards. So in wa1r, the way is to avo2id what is strong 3and to strike what i1s weak. Like water,2 taking the line of 3least resistance. 1War leads to peace. 0In war events of imp0ortance are the resu2lt of trivial 3causes. 1War has been prescri0bed for you and that2 displeases you, 3it may be you dislik1e something whilst i2t is good for you; 3and it may be that y1ou love something th2at is bad for you, 3because God knows it1, and you know it no2t. 3In peace the sons bu0ry their fathers 2and in war the fathe1rs bury their sons. 2There's but a twinkl0ing of a star 2Between a man of pea1ce and war. 2War its thousands sl0ays, 2Peace its ten thousa1nds. 2There are only two f0orces in the world, 2the sword and the 3spirit. In the long1 run the sword will 2always be conquered 3by the spirit. 1Defense is the stron0ger form with the ne2gative object, 3and attack the weake1r form with the posi2tive object. 3A war for a great pr0inciple ennobles a n2ation. A war for 3commercial supremacy1, upon some shallow 2pretext, is 3despicable, and more1 than aught else dem2onstrates to what 3immeasurable depths 1of baseness men and 2nations can descend.3There was only one v0irtue, pugnacity; 2only one vice, pacif1ism. 2That is an essential1 condition of war. 2If a sufficient numb0er of people who wan2ted to stop war 3really did gather to1gether, they would f2irst of all begin 3by making war upon t1hose who disagreed w2ith them. And it 3is still more certai1n that they would ma2ke war on people 3who also want to sto1p wars but in anothe2r way. 3An infallible method0 of conciliating a t2iger 3is to allow oneself 1to be devoured. 2At the outset, a rig0hteous cause, as wel2l as a proper 3method for conductin1g the war, is essent2ial for military 3success. 1Men grow tired of sl0eep, love, singing a2nd dancing 3sooner than of war. 1There is no greater 0misfortune 2than underestimating1 the enemy. 2If I underestimate t1he enemy 2I am in danger of lo1sing my treasure. 2Where two armies con1front each other in 2battle 3the conqueror will b1e he who wins with a2 heavy heart. 3The art of war is of0 vital importance to2 the State. It is a3matter of life and d1eath, a road either 2to safety or to 3ruin. Hence it is a1 subject of inquiry 2which can on no 3account be neglected1. 2The God of War hates0 those who hesitate.2Endless money forms 0the sinews of war. 2It is always easy to0 begin a war, but ve2ry difficult to 3stop one, since its 1beginning and end ar2e not under the 3control of the same 1man. Anyone, even a2 coward, can 3commence a war, but 1it can be brought to2 an end only with 3the consent of the v1ictors. 2To those to whom war0 is necessary it is 2just; 3and a resort to arms1 is righteous in tho2se to whom no means 3of assistance remain1 except by arms. 2The fortunes of war 0are always doubtful.2For a war to be just0 three conditions ar2e necessary - 3public authority, ju1st cause, right moti2ve. 3We fight to great di0sadvantage when we f2ight with those 3who have nothing to 1lose. 2Force and fraud are 0in war the two cardi2nal virtues. 3Most sorts of divers0ion, in men, childre2n and other animals,3are an imitation of 1fighting. 2The Way of strategy 0is the Way of nature2. When you 3appreciate the power1 of nature, knowing 2the rhythm of 3any situation, you w1ill be able to hit t2he enemy naturally 3and strike naturally1. 2In every heart 0Are sown the sparks 1that kindle fiery wa2r. 3Force, that is to sa0y, physical force (f2or no moral force 3exists apart from th1e conception of a st2ate and law), is the3means; to impose our1 will upon the enemy2 is the object. To 3achieve this object 1with certainty we mu2st disarm the enemy,3and this disarming i1s by definition the 2proper aim of 3military action. 1It is an irrepressib0le conflict between 2opposing and 3enduring forces. 1When wars do come, t0hey fall upon the ma2ny, 3the producing class,1 who are the suffere2rs. 3Ideas are the great 0warriors of the worl2d, 3and a war that has n1o idea behind it, is2 simply a brutality.3Force is never more 0operative than when 2it is known to 3exist but is not bra1ndished. 2War is much too impo0rtant a matter to be2 left to the 3generals. 1As long as war is re0garded as wicked it 2will always have its3fascinations. When 1it is looked upon as2 vulgar, then it 3will cease to be pop1ular. 2The might of the com0munity. Yet, it too2, is nothing else 3than violence...it i1s the communal, not 2individual, violence3that has its way. 1There is no such thi0ng as an inevitable 2war. 3If war comes it will1 be from a failure o2f human wisdom. 3The increase of arma0ments that is intend2ed in each nation to3produce consciousnes1s of strength, and a2 sense of security, 3does not produce the1se effects. On the 2contrary, it 3produces a conscious1ness of the strength2 of other nations 3and a sense of fear.1 Fear begets suspic2ion and distrust and3evil imaginings of a1ll sorts. 2The sinews of war ar0e five - men, money,2 materials, 3maintenance (food) a1nd morale. 2To destroy is still 0the strongest instin2ct in our nature. 3In war, when a comma0nder becomes so bere2ft of reason and 3perspective that he 1fails to understand 2the dependence of 3arms on Divine guida1nce, he no longer de2serves victory. 3Wars are caused by u0ndefended wealth. 2Armament is an impor0tant factor in war, 2but not the 3decisive factor...Ma1n, not material, for2ms the decisive 3factor. 1Wars occur because p0eople prepare for co2nflict, 3rather than for peac1e. 2Violence is essentia0lly wordless, and it2 can begin only 3where thought and ra1tional communication2 have broken down. 3The general who adva0nces without covetin2g fame and retreats 3without fearing disg1race, whose only tho2ught is to protect 3his country and do g1ood service for his 2sovereign, is the 3jewel of the kingdom1. 2It is not the object0 of war to annihilat2e those who have 3given provocation fo1r it, but to cause t2hem to mend their 3ways; not to ruin th1e innocent and guilt2y alike, but to 3save both. 1You need only a show0 of war to have peac2e. 3Even war is better t0han a wretched peace2. 3The arms are fair, 0When the intent of b1earing them is just.2The life of states i0s like that of men. 2The latter have the 1right of killing in 2self-defense; 3the former to make w1ars for their own pr2eservation. 3War kills men, and m0en deplore the loss;2 but war also 3crushes bad principl1es and tyrants, and 2so saves societies. 3It is well that war 0is so terrible- 2we would grow too fo1nd of it. 2Wars, like thunder-s0torms, are often nec2essary to purify 3the stagnant atmosph1ere. War is not a d2emon, without 3remorse or reward. 1It restores the brot2herhood in letters 3of fire...It is the 1hurricane that bring2s the elemental 3equilibrium, the con1cord of Power and Wi2sdom. 3So far war has been 0the only force that 2can discipline a 3whole community, and1 until an equivalent2 discipline is 3organized, I believe1 that war must have 2its way. 3From fear in every g0uise, 2 From sloth, from l1ove of self, 2By war's great sacri1fice 2 The world redeems 1itself. 2Blood is a cleansing0 and sanctifying thi2ng, and the nation 3that regards it as t1he final horror has 2lost its manhood... 3There are many thing1s more horrible than2 bloodshed, and 3slavery is one of th1em! 2The thing constantly0 overlooked by those2 hopefuls who talk 3about abolishing war1 is that it is by no2 means an evidence 3of the decay but rat1her a proof of healt2h and vigor. 3It simply is not tru0e that war never set2tles anything. 3Wherever armies are 0stationed, briars an2d thorns grow. 3Great wars are alway1s followed by famine2s. 3When the army engage0s in protracted camp2aigns the resources 3of the state will no1t suffice...For ther2e has never been a 3protracted war from 1which a country has 2benefited. 3Nothing good ever co0mes of violence. 2Gentleness succeeds 0better than violence2. 3All the talk of hist0ory is of nothing al2most but fighting 3and killing, and the1 honor and renown wh2ich are bestowed 3on conquerors, who, 1for the most part, a2re mere butchers 3of mankind, mislead 1growing youth, who, 2by these means, 3come to think slaugh1ter the most laudabl2e business of 3mankind, and the mos1t heroic of virtues.2War! that mad game 0the world so loves t2o play. 3War is the greatest 0of all crimes; and y2et there is no 3aggressor who does n1ot color his crime w2ith the pretext 3of justice. 1War is an instrument0 entirely inefficien2t toward redressing 3wrong; and multiplie1s, instead of indemn2ifying losses. 3Preparation for war 0is a constant stimul2us to suspicion and 3ill will. 1War is nothing less 0than a temporary rep2eal of the 3principles of virtue1. It is a system ou2t of which almost 3all the virtues are 1excluded, and in whi2ch nearly all the 3vices are included. 1Nothing except a bat0tle lost 2can be half so melan1choly as a battle wo2n. 3If war has its chiva0lry and its pageantr2y, it has also its 3hideousness and its 1demoniac woe. Bulle2ts respect not 3beauty. They tear o1ut the eye, and shat2ter the jaw, and 3rend the cheek. 1No protracted war ca0n fail to endanger t2he freedom of a 3democratic country. 1The ballot is strong0er than the bullet. 2War is cruelty, and 0you cannot refine it2. 3There is many a boy 0here today who looks2 on war as all 3glory, but boys, it 1is all hell. 2The carnage and suff0ering which war enta2ils are terrible 3to contemplate, and 1constitute an irresi2stible argument 3in favor of arbitrat1ion. 2Every government has0 as much of a duty t2o avoid war 3as a ship's captain 1has to avoid a shipw2reck. 3War I abhor, and yet0 how sweet 2The sound along the 1marching street 2Of drum and fife, an1d I forget 2Wet eyes of widows, 1and forget 2Broken old mothers, 1and the whole 2Dark butchery withou1t a soul. 2What difference does0 it make to the dead2...whether the mad 3destruction is wroug1ht under the name of2 totalitarianism or 3the holy name of lib1erty or democracy? 2War is only a coward0ly escape from the p2roblems of peace. 3I know war as few ot0her men now living k2now it, and nothing 3to me is more revolt1ing. I have long ad2vocated its complete3abolition, as its ve1ry destructiveness o2n both friend and 3foe has rendered it 1useless as a method 2of settling 3international disput1es. 2A great war leaves t0he country with thre2e armies- 3an army of cripples,1 an army of mourners2, and 3an army of thieves. 1It is only necessary0 to make war with fi2ve things: 3with the maladies of1 the body, 2with the ignorances 1of the mind, 2with the passions of1 the body, 2with the seditions o1f the city, 2with the discords of1 families. 2All warfare is based0 on deception. Ther2efore, when capable,3feign incapacity; wh1en active, inactivit2y. When near, make 3it appear that you a1re far away; when fa2r way, that you are 3near. Offer the ene1my a bait to lure hi2m; feign disorder 3and strike him. Whe1n he concentrates, p2repare against him; 3where he is strong, 1avoid him. Anger hi2s general and 3confuse him. Preten1d inferiority and en2courage his 3arrogance. Keep him1 under a strain and 2wear him down. When3he is united, divide1 him. Attack where 2he is unprepared; 3sally out when he do1es not expect you. 2These are the 3strategist's keys to1 victory. It is not2 possible to discuss3them beforehand. 1To fight and conquer0 in all your battles2 is not supreme 3excellence; supreme 1excellence consists 2in breaking the 3enemy's resistance w1ithout fighting. 2Beware lest in your 0anxiety to avoid war2 you obtain a 3master. 1Wars are to be under0taken in order that 2it may be possible 3to live in peace wit1hout molestation. 2Before all else, be 0armed. 2Give the enemy not o0nly a road for fligh2t, 3but also a means of 1defending it. 2Study strategy over 0the years and achiev2e the spirit of the 3warrior. Today is v1ictory over yourself2 of yesterday; 3tomorrow is your vic1tory over lesser men2. 3To be prepared for w0ar is one of the mos2t effectual means 3of preserving peace.1There are strings in0 the human heart tha2t had better not be 3vibrated. 1The essence of war i0s violence. 2Moderation in war is1 imbecility. 2Once we have a war t0here is only one thi2ng to do. It must 3be won. For defeat 1brings worse things 2than any that can 3ever happen in war. 1Our business in the 0field of fight 2Is not to question, 1but to prove our mig2ht. 3And by prudent fligh0t and cunning save 2A life, which valour1 could not, from the2 grave. 3A better shield I ca1n soon regain; 2But who can get anot1her life again? 2When discord dreadfu0l bursts her brazen 2bars, 3And shatters locks t1o thunder forth her 2wars. 3Sound trumpets! let0 our bloody colours 2wave! 3And either victory, 1or else a grave. 2Mine eyes have seen 0the glory of the com2ing of the Lord: 3He is trampling out 1the vintage where th2e grapes of wrath 3 are stored: 1He hath loosed the f1ateful lightning of 2his terrible swift 3 sword: 1His truth is marchin1g on. 2War, he sung, is toi0l and trouble; 2Honour but an empty 1bubble. 2Everything can colla0pse. Houses, bodies2, and enemies 3collapse when their 1rhythm becomes deran2ged. In large- 3scale battles, when 1the enemy starts to 2collapse you must 3pursue him without l1etting the chance go2. If you fail to 3take advantage of yo1ur enemies' collapse2, they may recover. 3 These are the time0 that try men's soul2s. The Summer 3soldier and the suns1hine patriot will, i2n this crisis, 3shrink from the serv1ice of their country2, but he that stands3now deserves the lov1e and thanks of man 2and woman. 3 Tyranny, like Hell1, is not easily conq2uered; yet we have 3this consolation wit1h us - the harder th2e conflict the more 3glorious the triumph1. 2He that fights and r0uns away, 2May turn and fight a1nother day; 2But he that is in ba1ttle slain, 2Will never rise to f1ight again. 2But Thy most dreaded0 instrument 2In working out a pur1e intent, 2Is man, - arrayed fo1r mutual slaughter,-2Yes Carnage is Thy d1aughter. 2The Assyrian came do0wn like the wolf on 2the fold, 3And his cohorts were1 gleaming in purple 2and gold. 3Like the leaves of t0he forest when summe2r is green, 3That host with their1 banners at sunset w2ere seen; 3Like the leaves of t1he forest when autum2n hath blown, 3That host on the mor1row lay wither'd and2 strown! 3March to the battle-0field, 2 The foe is now bef1ore us; 2Each heart is Freedo1m's shield, 2 And heaven is shin1ing o'er us. 2By the rude bridge t0hat arched the flood2, 3 Their flag to Apri1l's breeze unfurl'd;2Here once the embatt1l'd farmers stood, 2 And fired the shot1 heard round the wor2ld. 3Theirs not to make r0eply, 2Theirs not to reason1 why, 2Theirs but to do and1 die. 2For what this whirlw0ind all aflame? 2 This thunderstroke1 of hellish ire, 2 Setting the univ1erse afire? 2While millions upon 1millions came 2 Into a very storm 1of war? 2 For a scrap of p1aper. 2I hear the hoarse-vo0iced cannon roar, 2the red-mouthed orat1ors of war. 2Yes; quaint and curi0ous war is! 2 You shoot a fellow1 down 2You'd treat if met w1here any bar is, 2 Or help to half-a-1crown. 2Naval supremacy is t0he best security for2 the peace of the 3world...If...you are1 ready for instant w2ar, with every unit 3of your strength in 1the first line and w2aiting to be first 3in, and hit your ene1my in the belly and 2kick him when he is 3down, and boil your 1prisoners in oil (if2 you take any) and 3torture his women an1d children, then peo2ple will keep clear 3of you. 1There will one day s0pring from the brain2 of science a 3machine or force so 1fearful in its poten2tialities, so 3absolutely terrifyin1g, that even man, th2e fighter, who will 3dare torture and dea1th, will be appalled2, and so abandon war3forever. What man's1 mind can create, ma2n's character can 3control. 1'Tis one thing to be0 tempted, another th2ing to fall. 3Human brutes, like o0ther beasts, find sn2ares and poison 3in the provisions of1 life, and are allur2ed by their 3appetites to their d1estruction. 2Weaknesses, so calle0d, are nothing more 2nor less than 3vice in disguise! 1When man is born, he0 is tender and weak.2At death, he is stif1f and hard. 2All things, the gras1s as well as trees, 2 are tender and sup1ple while alive. 2When dead, they are 1withered and dried. 2Therefore the stiff 1and hard are compani2ons of death. 3The tender and the w1eak are companions o2f life. 3Excessive liberty le0ads both nations and2 individuals into 3excessive slavery. 1God hath chosen the 0foolish things of th2e world 3 to confound the wi1se; 2and God hath chosen 1the weak things of t2he world 3 to confound the th1ings that are mighty2. 3Weakness is more opp0osite to virtue than2 is vice itself. 3All mankind is one o0f these two cowards:2 to wish to die whe1n he should live, 2 to wish to live wh1en he should die. 2Strength alone knows0 conflict; 2weakness is below ev1en defeat, and is bo2rn vanquished. 3Every man has a cowa0rd and hero in his s2oul. 3Strength comes from 0struggle; weakness f2rom ease. 3Vain and inconstant 0if thou art, how can2st thou but be 3weak? Is not incons1tancy connected with2 frailty? Can 3there be vanity with1out infirmity? Avoi2d the danger of 3the one, and thou sh1alt escape the misch2ief of the other. 3Instead of solid acc0omplishments, the ma2n pursues pleasures 3and self-gratificati1on. He will never a2chieve anything so 3long as he is surrou1nded by dissipating 2temptations. 3It is a law of natur0e that faint-hearted2 men should be the 3fruit of luxurious c1ountries, for we nev2er find that the 3same soil produces d1elicacies and heroes2. 3Things forbidden hav0e a secret charm. 2When a broken tank i0s filled with water,2It certainly will le1ak on every side. 2Weak men who grow ri1ch 2Seldom leave an inhe1ritance. 2How oft the sight of0 means to do ill dee2ds 3makes deeds ill done1! 2Many a dangerous tem0ptation comes to us 2in fine gay colours,3that are but skin-de1ep. 2Slavery is also as a0ncient as war, 2and war as human nat1ure. 2The coward only thre0atens when he is saf2e. 3To sin by silence wh0en they should prote2st 3makes cowards out of1 men. 2If you take temptati0ons into account, wh2o is to say that he 3is better than his n1eighbor? 2The man who gives me0 employment, which I2 must have or 3suffer, that man is 1my master, let me ca2ll him what I will. 3Men lie, who lack co0urage to tell truth 2- the cowards! 3Not wine...men intox0icate themselves; 2Not vice...men entic1e themselves. 2To yield is to be pr0eserved whole. 2To be bent is to bec1ome straight. 2To be empty is to be1 full. 2To be worn out is to1 be renewed. 2To have little is to1 possess. 2To have plenty is to1 be perplexed. 2Heaven's eternal wis0dom has decreed, tha2t man should 3ever stand in need o1f man. 2My strength is made 0perfect in weakness.2Men are in general s0o tricky, so envious2, so cruel, 3that when we find on1e who is only weak, 2we are happy. 3Even weak men when u0nited are powerful. 2Why comes temptation0 but for man to meet2And master and make 1crouch beneath his f2oot, 3And so be pedestaled1 in triumph? 2No man is matriculat0ed to the art of lif2e till he has been 3well tempted. 1There are several go0od protections again2st temptation, 3but the surest is co1wardice. 2The dastardly spirit0 of a timorous man b2etrayeth him to 3shame. By shrinking1 under poverty, he s2toopeth down to 3meanness; and by tam1ely bearing insults 2he inviteth 3injuries....In the h1our of danger, he is2 embarassed and 3confounded: in the 1day of misfortune he2 sinketh and despair3overwhelmeth his Sou1l. 2The man is indecisiv0ely unable to deal w2ith adversity and 3is oppressed by some1thing which should n2ot oppress him. 3He leans on things l1ike thorns and thist2les, which are 3hazardous yet cannot1 support him. 2There is nothing sof0ter and weaker than 2water, 3And yet there is not1hing better for atta2cking hard and 3 strong things. 1For this reason ther1e is no substitute f2or it. 3All the world knows 1that the weak overco2mes the strong and 3 the soft overcomes1 the hard. 2But none can practic1e it. 2To know what is righ0t and not to do it i2s the worst 3cowardice. 1The fire which burne0d the forest 2Became the companion1 of the wind. 2But just as the wind1 extinguished the fi2re, 3The weak man loses h1is friends. 2Most dangerous is th0at temptation that d2oth goad us on to 3sin in loving virtue1. 2To excuse our faults0 on the ground of ou2r weakness 3 is to quiet our fe1ars at the expense o2f our hopes. 3To be weak is misera1ble, doing or suffer2ing. 3Weakness is the only0 fault that is incor2rigible. 3Temptation is the fi0re that brings up th2e scum of the 3heart. 1Servitude degrades m0en even to making th2em love it. 3The concessions of t0he weak are the conc2essions of fear. 3The mortal race is f0ar too weak not to g2row dizzy on 3unwonted heights. 1The last temptation 0is the greatest trea2son: 3To do the right deed1 for the wrong reaso2n. 3If thou wouldst pres0erve understanding a2nd health to old 3age, avoid the allur1ements of Voluptuous2ness, and fly from 3her temptations.... 1For if thou hearkene2st unto the words of3the Adversary, thou 1art deceived and bet2rayed. The joy 3which she promiseth 1changeth to madness,2 and her enjoyments 3lead on to diseases 1and death. 2If you find your min0d tempted and entang2led in greed, 3you must suppress th1e greed and control 2the temptation; 3be the master of you1r own mind. 2The acknowledgement 0of our weakness is t2he first step 3toward repairing our1 loss. 2Better shun the bait0 than struggle in th2e snare. 3Every moment of resi0stance to temptation2 is a victory. 3Begin to think of th0is body as nothing b2etter than the house3you have to live in 1for a time, and then2 you will never 3yield to its temptat1ions. Try also with2 consistent attempts3to conquer the promi1nent weaknesses of y2our nature by 3developing thought i1n the direction that2 will kill each 3particular passion. 1A great country is l0owly. 2Everything under hea1ven blends with it. 2It is like the femal1e, at all times and 2in every place 3overcomes the male b1y her quietude. 2Than quietude there 1is nothing that is m2ore lowly. 3Therefore a great st1ate gains by yieldin2g; 3while the smaller st1ate wins the greater2 by submission. 3In the one case lowl1iness gains adherent2s, 3in the other it proc1ures favors. 2The cord breaketh at0 last by the weakest2 pull. 3But Satan now is wis0er than of yore, 2And tempts by making1 rich, not making po2or. 3The Sensual and the 0Dark rebel in vain, 2Slaves by their own 1compulsion! In mad 2game 3They burst their man1acles and wear the n2ame 3Of Freedom, graven o1n a heavier chain! 2Our fellow-countryme0n in chains! 2 Slaves - in a land1 of light and law! 2Slaves - crouching o1n the very plains 2 Where rolled the s1torms of Freedom's w2ar! 3The coward wretch wh0ose hand and heart 2Can bear to torture 1aught below, 2Is ever first to qua1il and start 2From the slightest p1ain or equal foe. 2They are slaves who 0fear to speak 2For the fallen and t1he weak; 2They are slaves who 1will not choose 2Hatred, scoffing, an1d abuse, 2Rather than in silen1ce shrink 2From the truth they 1needs must think; 2They are slaves who 1dare not be 2In the right with tw1o or three. 2To cease smoking is 0the easiest thing I 2ever did. 3I ought to know beca1use I've done it a t2housand times. 3Coward - One who in 0a perilous emergency2 thinks with his 3legs. 1I can resist everyth0ing except temptatio2n. 3Temptation - An irre0sistible force at wo2rk on a moveable 3body. 1The Tongue is an ins0trument yielding and2 pliant 3Yet safe in the mout1h, it ever remains, 2While the teeth are 1inflexible, hard and2 defiant, 3And frequently broke1n to pay for their p2ains. 3He is richest who is0 content with the le2ast, 3for content is the w1ealth of nature. 2Wealth consists not 0in having great poss2essions, 3but in having few wa1nts. 2Who gives to friends0 so much from Fate s2ecures, 3That is the only wea1lth for ever yours. 2A man's true wealth 0is the good he does 2in this world. 3Every man is rich or0 poor according to t2he proportion 3between his desires 1and his enjoyments. 2Money is human happi0ness in the abstract2. 3Money is a handmaide0n, if thou knowest h2ow to use it; 3a mistress, if thou 1knowest not. 2It is easy at any mo0ment to resign the p2ossession of a 3great fortune; to ac1quire it is difficul2t and arduous. 3As long as you have 0wealth, everyone is 2your friend; 3If your fortune decl1ines, everyone is yo2ur foe, 3An island of preciou1s metals is visited 2from afar; 3When a lake dries up1, everyone leaves. 2Great riches have so0ld more men than the2y have bought. 3If thou art rich, th0ou art poor; 2for, like an ass, wh1ose back with ingots2 bows, 3thou bearest the hea1vy riches but a jour2ney, 3and death unloads th1ee. 2He is rich whose inc0ome is more than his2 expenses; 3and he is poor whose1 expenses exceed his2 income. 3Riches exclude only 0one inconvenience, 2and that is poverty.1Equity money is dyna0mic and debt money i2s static. 3It isn't enough for 0you to love money - 2it's also necessary 1that money should lo2ve you. 3Riches amassed in ha0ste will diminish, 2but those collected 1by little and little2 will multiply. 3Gold, like the sun, 0which melts wax and 2hardens clay, 3expands great souls 1and contracts bad he2arts. 3It is far more easy 0to acquire fortune l2ike a knave 3than to expend it li1ke a gentleman. 2In this world, it is0 not what we take up2, 3but what we give up,1 that makes us rich.2With money a dragon 0Without money a worm1. 2Nature hath hid gold0 beneath the earth, 2as unworthy to be 3seen; silver hath sh1e placed where thou 2tramplest it under 3thy feet. Meaneth s1he not by this to in2form thee, that 3gold is not worthy t1hy regard, and that 2silver is beneath 3thy notice? 1Riches certainly mak0e themselves wings; 2they fly away as an 1eagle toward heaven.2Money lost is bewail0ed with unfeigned te2ars. 3Money is like manure0, of very little use2 except it be 3spread. 1All wealth is the pr0oduct of labor. 2Much learning shows 0how little mortals k2now; 3Much wealth, how lit1tle worldlings can e2njoy. 3When is is a questio0n of money, everybod2y is of the same 3religion. 1If you would know th0e value of money, 2go and try to borrow1 some. 2As wealth is power, 0so all power will in2fallibly draw wealth3to itself by some me1ans or other. 2Many people take no 0care of their money 2till they come nearl1y to the end of it. 2Others do just the s1ame with their time.2Our incomes are like0 our shoes; 2if too small, they g1all and pinch us; 2but if too large, th1ey cause us to stumb2le and to trip. 3If rich men would re0member that shrouds 2have no pockets, 3they would, while li1ving, share their we2alth with their 3children, and give f1or the good of other2s, and so know 3the highest pleasure1 wealth can give. 2The use we make of o0ur fortune determine2s as to its 3sufficiency. - A lit1tle is enough if use2d wisely, 3and too much if expe1nded foolishly. 2Money has little val0ue to its possessor 2unless it also has v1alue to others. 2Everyone, even the r0ichest and most muni2ficent of men, 3pays much by check m1ore lightheartedly t2han he pays little 3in cash. 1Earned money - best.0Inherited money - no1t so good. 2Brother's money - ba1d. 2Woman's money - wors1t. 2Wealth is of all thi0ngs the most esteeme2d by men and has the3greatest power of al1l things in the worl2d. 3A feast is made for 0laughter, and wine m2aketh merry; 3but money answereth 1all things. 2There is no fortress0 so strong that mone2y cannot take it. 3Though authority be 0stubborn as a bear, 2yet he is oft led by1 the nose with gold.2For they say, if mon0ey go before, all wa2ys do lie open. 3There's no fence or 0fortress against an 2ass laden with gold.3Money brings honor, 0friends, conquest, a2nd realms. 3A heavy purse makes 0a light heart. 2Let all the learn'd 0say what they can, 2'Tis ready money mak1es the man; 2Commands respect whe1re'er we go, 2And gives a grace to1 all we do. 2Men are seldom more 0innocently employed 2than when they are h1onestly making money2. 3Ready money is Aladd0in's lamp. 2The desire of gold i0s not for gold. 2It is for the means 1of freedom and benef2it. 3Property is desirabl0e, is a positive goo2d in the world. 3Wealth may be an anc0ient thing, for it m2eans power, 3it means leisure, it1 means liberty. 2Possession means to 0sit astride the worl2d 3Instead of having it1 astride of you. 2It is better to have0 old secondhand diam2onds than none 3at all. 1When I was young I t0hought that money wa2s the most important3thing in life; now t1hat I am old I know 2that it is. 3Money is the most im0portant thing in the2 world. It 3represents health, s1trength, honor, gene2rosity and beauty 3as conspicuously as 1the want of it repre2sents illness, 3weakness, disgrace, 1meanness and uglines2s. 3Money is like a sixt0h sense - and you ca2n't make use of the 3other five without i1t. 2Private property was0 the original source2 of freedom. 3It still is its main1 bulwark. 2In all the world peo0ple enjoy salt and m2oney. 3Heat comes equally t0o all... 2Cold respects the ri1ch man's furs. 2The earth is barren 0of good things where2 she hoardeth up 3treasure; where gold1 is in her bowels, t2here no herb 3groweth. 1There is always dang0er in circumstances 2of abundance. 3The inferior man pus1hes forward through 2excessive ambition, 3thereby losing touch1 with men of talent 2and virtue in 3positions below him.1The rich fool is lik0e a pig that is chok2ed by its own fat. 3The love of money is0 the mother of all e2vil. 3Wealth is the parent0 of luxury and indol2ence, and poverty of3meanness and vicious1ness, and both of di2scontent. 3It is better for you0 to be free of fear 2lying upon a pallet,3than to have a golde1n couch and a rich t2able and be full 3of trouble. 1Riches destroy the f0oolish, if they look2 not for the other 3shore; by his thirst1 for riches the fool2ish man destroys 3himself as if he wer1e his own enemy. 2To despise money on 0some occasions is a 2very great pain. 3A great fortune is a0 great servitude. 2Riches do not exhila0rate us so much with2 their possession 3as they torment us w1ith their loss. 2As to those who hoar0d gold and silver an2d spend it not in 3God's path, give the1m, then, the tidings2 of a painful 3agony: on a day whe1n these things shall2 be heated in 3hell-fire, and their1 foreheads, and thei2r sides, and their 3backs shall be brand1ed therewith. 2When a man becomes t0oo famous for his ri2ches, 3He is destroyed by h1is wealth. 2It is common that ri1ch men are assaulted2, 3But beggars pass thr1ough without harm. 2Great abundance of r0iches cannot be gath2ered and kept by any3man without sin. 1A son can bear with 0equanimity the loss 2of his father, 3but the loss of his 1inheritance may driv2e him to despair. 3Worldly wealth is th0e Devil's bait; and 2those whose minds 3feed upon riches rec1ede, in general, fro2m real happiness, 3in proportion as the1ir stores increase, 2as the moon, 3when she is fullest,1 is farthest from th2e sun. 3He that is proud of 0riches is a fool. F2or if he be exalted 3above his neighbors 1because he hath more2 gold, how much 3inferior is he to a 1gold mine. 2Gold begets in breth0ren hate; 2Gold in families deb1ate; 2Gold does friendship1 separate; 2Gold does civil wars1 create. 2They who are of the 0opinion that Money w2ill do everything, 3may very well be sus1pected to do everyth2ing for Money. 3There is a burden of0 care in getting ric2hes; 3fear of keeping them1; temptation in usin2g them; 3guilt in abusing the1m, sorrow in losing 2them; 3and a burden of acco1unt at last to be gi2ven concerning them.3If Heaven had looked0 upon riches to be a2 valuable thing, 3it would not have gi1ven them to such sco2undrels. 3Gold glitters most w0here virtue shines n2o more, 3as stars from absent1 suns have leave to 2shine. 3Money never made a m0an happy yet, nor wi2ll it. 3There is nothing in 1its nature to produc2e happiness. 3The more a man has, 1the more he wants. 2Instead of its filli1ng a vacuum, it make2s one. 3If you make money yo0ur god, 2it will plague you l1ike the devil. 2Money and time are t0he heaviest burdens 2of life, and the 3unhappiest of all mo1rtals are those who 2have more of either 3than they know how t1o use. 2It is only when the 0rich are sick 2that they fully feel1 the impotence of we2alth. 3The deepest depth of0 vulgarism is that o2f setting up 3money as the ark of 1the covenant. 2Money often costs to0o much. 2Money is not require0d to buy one necessi2ty of the soul. 3It is easier for a c0amel to go through t2he eye of a needle, 3than for a rich man 1to enter into the ki2ngdom of God. 3Money may be the hus0k of many things, bu2t not the kernel. 3It brings you food, 1but not appetite; me2dicine, but not 3health; acquaintance1, but not friends; s2ervants, but not 3loyalty; days of joy1, but not peace or h2appiness. 3It has been said tha0t the love of money 2is the root of all 3evil. The want of m1oney is so quite as 2truly. 3The pride of dying r0ich raises the loude2st laugh in hell. 3Misery assails riche0s, as lightning does2 the highest towers;3or as a tree that is1 heavy laden with fr2uit breaks its 3own boughs, so riche1s destroy the virtue2 of their possessor.3The only thing I lik0e about rich people 2is their money. 3Money can help you t0o get medicines 2 but not health. 1Money can help you t1o get soft pillows, 2 but not sound slee1p. 2Money can help you t1o get material comfo2rts, 3 but not eternal bl1iss. 2Money can help you t1o get ornaments, 2 but not beauty. 1Money will help you 1to get an electric e2arphone, 3 but not natural he1aring. 2Attain the supreme w1ealth, wisdom; 2 you will have ever1ything. 2Neither let prosperi0ty put out the eyes 2of circumspection, 3nor abundance cut of1f the hands of fruga2lity; 3he that too much ind1ulgeth in the superf2luities of life, 3shall live to lament1 the want of its nec2essaries. 3He that trusteth in 0his riches shall fal2l. 3Do not lay up for yo0urselves treasures o2n earth, where 3moth and rust consum1e and where thieves 2break in and 3steal, but lay up fo1r yourself treasures2 in heaven, where 3neither moth nor rus1t consumes and where2 thieves do not 3break in and steal. 1 For where your trea2sure is, there 3will your heart be a1lso. 2Six faults ought to 0be avoided by a man 2seeking prosperity 3in this world: slee1p, sloth, fear, ange2r, laziness, 3prolixity. 1Money was made, not 0to command our will,2But all our lawful p1leasures to fulfill.2Shame and woe to us,1 if we our wealth ob2ey; 3The horse doth with 1the horseman away. 2The way to wealth is0 as plain as the way2 to market. 3It depends chiefly o1n two words, industr2y and frugality; 3that is, waste neith1er time nor money, b2ut make the best use3of both. Without in1dustry and frugality2, nothing will do; 3and with them, every1thing. 2Wealth is not his th0at has it, but his t2hat enjoys it. 3Life is short. 0The sooner that a ma1n begins to enjoy hi2s wealth the better.3It requires a great 0deal of boldness and2 a great deal of 3caution to make a gr1eat fortune; and whe2n you have got it, 3it requires ten time1s as much wit to kee2p it. 3Put not your trust i0n money, but put you2r money in trust. 3It's good to have mo0ney and the things m2oney can buy. But 3it's good too, to ch1eck up once in a whi2le and make sure 3you haven't lost the1 things that money c2an't buy. 3He that giveth away 0his treasure wisely,2 giveth away his 3plagues: he that re1taineth their increa2se, heapeth up 3sorrow. 1Accursed thirst for 0gold! 2what dost thou not c1ompel mortals to do?2Truly now is the gol0den age; 2the highest honour c1omes by means of gol2d; 3by gold love is proc1ured. 2One's desire to be a0ttractive and happy 2And to enjoy the ple1asures of wealth, 2Is like the foolishn1ess of a drunken per2son, 3Who, though healthy,1 must be carried. 2And as for him who i0s covetous and desir2ous of riches, 3and denieth the Best1, we will speed him 2onward to trouble; 3and his riches shall1 not avail him when 2he falleth down 3into Hell. 1Can wealth give happ0iness? look round a2nd see 3What gay distress! 1what splendid misery2! 3Whatever fortunes la1vishly can pour, 2The mind annihilates1, and calls for more2. 3I am indeed rich, si0nce my income is sup2erior to my expense,3and my expense is eq1ual to my wishes. 2I have mental joys a0nd mental health, 2Mental friends and m1ental wealth, 2I've a wife that I l1ove and that loves m2e; 3I've all but riches 1bodily. 2Many speak the truth0 when they say that 2they despise riches,3but they mean the ri1ches possessed by ot2her men. 3Without a rich heart0 wealth is an ugly b2eggar. 3The seven deadly sin0s...Food, clothing, 2firing, rent, taxes,3respectability and c1hildren. Nothing ca2n lift those seven 3millstones from man'1s neck but money; an2d the spirit cannot 3soar until the mills1tones are lifted. 2Money is always ther0e but the pockets ch2ange; 3it is not in the sam1e pockets after a ch2ange, 3and that is all ther1e is to say about mo2ney. 3Nobody was ever mean0t 2To remember or inven1t 2What he did with eve1ry cent. 2Wealth - any income 0that is at least one2 hundred dollars 3more a year than the1 income of one's wif2e's sister's 3husband. 1Money comes like san0d scooped with a nee2dle... 3Money goes like sand1 washed by water. 2Will is the dynamic 0soul-force. 2Great souls have wil0ls; feeble ones have2 only wishes. 3When a man lacks dis0crimination and 2His mind is undiscip1lined, his senses 2Run hither and thith1er like wild horses,2But they obey the re1in like trained hors2es 3When he has discrimi1nation and his 2Mind is one-pointed.1For him who has conq0uered the mind, 2 the mind is the be1st of friends; 2but for one who has 1failed to do so, 2 his mind will be t1he greatest enemy. 2There is nothing goo0d or evil save in th2e will. 3I have known many wh0o could not when the2y would, 3for they had not don1e it when they could2. 3It is the will that 0makes the action goo2d or ill. 3Let not thy Will roa0r, when thy Power ca2n but whisper. 3All theory is agains0t the freedom of the2 will, 3all experience for i1t. 2Man is made great or0 little by his own w2ill. 3Men are great or sma0ll in stature as it 2pleases God. But 3their nature is grea1t or small as it ple2ases themselves. 3Men are not born, so1me with great souls 2and some with little3souls. One by takin1g thought cannot add2 to his stature, but3he can enlarge his s1oul. By an act of t2he will he can make 3himself a moral gian1t, or dwarf himself 2to a pigmy. 3The only way of sett0ing the will free 2is to deliver it fro1m willfulness. 2If knowledge outweig0hs conscious will a 2man knows 3but has no power to 1do. It is useless k2nowledge. 3On the other hand if1 conscious life outw2eighs knowledge 3a man has the power 1to do, but does not 2know, 3that is, he can do s1omething but does no2t know what to do. 3Easy to bend the bod0y... 2Not the will. 1By steadily discipli0ning the animal natu2re, until it becomes3one pointed, it is p1ossible to establish2 conscious awareness3of The Eternal. 1One who restrains th0e senses and organs 2of action, but 3whose mind dwells on1 sense objects, cert2ainly deludes 3himself and is calle1d a pretender. 2Every duty is a char0ge, but the charge o2f oneself is the 3root of all others. 1There are men steady0 and wise whose body2, words and mind are3self-controlled. Th1ey are the men of su2preme self-control. 3Surely the getting u0p at night is the st2rongest way to 3conquer one's self..1. 2The will of man is b0y his reason swayed.2Although men are acc0used of not knowing 2their own weakness, 3yet perhaps as few k1now their own streng2th. It is in men as3in soils, where some1times there is a vei2n of gold which the 3owner knows not of. 1Whatever the will co0mmands, the whole ma2n must do; the 3empire of the will o1ver all the facultie2s being absolutely 3over-ruling and desp1otic. 2We deceive ourselves0 when we fancy that 2only weakness needs 3support. Strength n1eeds it far more. A2 straw or a feather 3sustains itself long1 in the air. 2The will is the stro0ng blind man who car2ries on his 3shoulders the lame m1an who can see. 2The education of the0 will is the object 2of our existence. 3Everything in this w0orld depends upon wi2ll. 3The strongest man in0 the world is he who2 stands most alone. 3Will is character in0 action. 2When rendered pure a0nd irresistible, wil2l can work wonders. 3Will becomes impure 1and weak through vul2gar passions, 3 love of pleasures 1and desires. 2Fewer the desires, t1he stronger the will2. 3The greatest bountie0s given to man are, 2judgment and will; 3happy is he who misa1pplieth them not. 2It is an inexorable 0Law of Nature that b2ad must follow good,3that decline must fo1llow a rise. To fee2l that we can rest 3on our achievements 1is a dangerous falla2cy. Inner strength 3can overcome anythin1g that occurs outsid2e. 3To enjoy good health0, to bring true happ2iness to one's 3family, to bring pea1ce to all, one must 2first discipline 3and control one's ow1n mind. If a man ca2n control his mind 3he can find the way 1to Enlightenment, an2d all wisdom and 3virtue will naturall1y come to him. 2The army commander o0f a large State may 2be carried off, 3but the will of even1 a common man cannot2 be taken for him. 3The man who has the 0will to undergo all 2labor 3may win to any good.1And he who lives a h0undred years, idle a2nd weak, a life 3of one day is better1 if a man has attain2ed firm strength. 3If you have overcome0 your inclination an2d not been 3overcome by it, you 1have reason to rejoi2ce. 3Moral conduct, self-0restraint, 2And control of the m1ind- 2What else does one n1eed 2Who perseveres in th1ese? 2To rule self and sub0due our passions is 2the more 3praiseworthy because1 so few know how to 2do it. 3He who reigns within0 himself, and rules 2passions, desires 3and fears, is more t1han a king. 2Will opens the door 0to success, both bri2lliant and happy. 3Self-control is the 0best of all vows. S2weetness of speech, 3benevolence, absence1 of malice, anger, a2nd hatred, 3forgiveness, patienc1e, forbearance, non-2violence, modesty, 3courtesy, good behav1iour, Truth, straigh2t-forwardness, and 3firmness - the combi1nation of all these 2constitutes self- 3control. 1Strength, wanting ju0dgment and policy to2 rule, 3overturneth itself. 1Lawless are they tha0t make their wills t2heir law. 3Oh! it is excellent0 to have a giant's s2trength; 3but it is tyrannous 1to use it like a gia2nt. 3What is strength wit0hout a double share 2of wisdom? Vast, 3unwieldly, burdensom1e, proudly secure, y2et liable to fall 3by weakest subtletie1s; strength's not ma2de to rule, but 3to subserve, where w1isdom bears command.2Nothing is impossibl0e; there are ways th2at lead to 3everything, and if w1e had sufficient wil2l we should 3always have sufficie1nt means. It is oft2en merely for 3an excuse that we sa1y things are impossi2ble. 3A man can do what he0 ought to do; 2and when he says he 1cannot, it is becaus2e he will not. 3Obstinacy is the res0ult of the will forc2ing itself into the 3place of the intelle1ct. 2Strength is born in 0the deep silence of 2long-suffering 3hearts; not amidst j1oy. 2People do not lack s0trength, they lack w2ill. 3What men want is not0 talent; it is purpo2se; in other 3words, not the power1 to achieve, but the2 will to labor. 3The saddest failures0 in life are those t2hat come from 3not putting forth th1e power and will to 2succeed. 3Beware of irresoluti0on in the intent of 2thy actions, beware 3of instability in th1e execution; so shal2t thou triumph over 3two great failings o1f thy nature. 2Calmness and irony a0re the only weapons 2worthy 3of the strong. 1Do God's will as if 0it were thy will, 2and he will accompli1sh thy will as if it2 were his own. 3Because your own str0ength is unequal to 2the task, 3do not assume that i1t is beyond the powe2rs of man; 3but if anything is w1ithin the powers and2 province of man, 3believe that it is w1ithin your own compa2ss also. 3Want of control over0 the senses is calle2d the road to ruin; 3victory over them, t1he path to fortune. 2Go then by which you1 please. 2Do not, for one repu0lse, 2forego the purpose t1hat you resolved to 2effect. 3He who is firm in wi0ll molds the world t2o himself. 3Reflect upon the def0ects of your charact2er: thoroughly 3realise their evils 1and the transient pl2easures they give 3you, and firmly will1 that you shall try 2your best not to 3yield to them the ne1xt time. 2The primal spirit dw0ells in the square i2nch between the 3eyes, but the consci1ous spirit dwells be2low in the heart... 3The conscious spirit1 is like a strong, p2owerful commander 3who despises the hea1venly ruler (primal 2spirit) because of 3his weakness, and ta1kes control of the b2ody. But when the 3primal spirit is for1tified and defended 2(by circulating the 3inner light), then t1he conscious spirit 2presents itself like3an obedient servant 1ready to take orders2. 3The will is a beast 0of burden. 2If God mounts it, it1 wishes and goes as 2God wills; 3if Satan mounts it, 1it wishes and goes a2s Satan wills; 3Nor can it choose it1s rider... 2The riders contend f1or its possession. 2And binding nature f0ast in fate, 2Left free the human 1will. 2In idle wishes fools0 supinely stay; 2be there a will and 1wisdom finds the way2. 3To sleep I give my p0owers away; 2My will is bondsman 1to the dark. 2The star of the unco0nquered will, 2 He rises in my bre1ast, 2Serene, and resolute1, and still, 2 And calm, and self1-possessed. 2A philosopher is one0 who desires to disc2ern the truth. 3Wisdom is the wealth0 of the wise. 2Philosophy, rightly 0defined, is simply t2he love of wisdom. 3Philosophy is the ar0t of living. 2Wise it is to compre0hend the whole. 2Metaphysics is the a0natomy of the soul. 2Wisdom is only found0 in truth. 2Metaphysics is the a0ttempt of the mind t2o rise above the 3mind. 1Philosophy is system0atic reflection upon2 the common 3experience of mankin1d. 2The childish go afte0r outward pleasures;2They walk into the n1et of widespread dea2th. 3But the wise, knowin1g immortality, 2Seek not the stable 1among things which a2re unstable here. 3The sage is as point0ed as a square but d2oes not pierce. 3He is as acute as a 1knife but does not c2ut. 3He is as straight as1 an unbent line but 2does not extend. 3He is as bright as l1ight but does not da2zzle. 3In seeking wisdom th0ou art wise; 2in imagining that th1ou hast attained it 2- thou art a fool. 3He is wise that is w0ise to himself. 2Wise men learn more 0from fools than fool2s from the wise. 3All philosophy lies 0in two words, sustai2n and abstain. 3The career of a sage0 is of two kinds: 2He is either honored1 by all in the world2, 3Like a flower waving1 its head, 2Or else he disappear1s into the silent fo2rest. 3A foolish man procla0imeth his qualificat2ions; 3A wise man keepeth t1hem secret within hi2mself; 3A straw floateth on 1the surface of water2, 3But a precious gem p1laced upon it sinket2h. 3We can be knowledgea0ble with other men's2 knowledge, 3but we cannot be wis1e with other men's w2isdom. 3Philosophy, when sup0erficially studied, 2excites doubt; 3when thoroughly expl1ored, it dispels it.2It is easier to be w0ise for others than 2for ourselves. 3To ridicule philosop0hy is truly philosop2hical. 3A man's wisdom is hi0s best friend; 2folly, his worst ene1my. 2Revere thyself, and 0yet thyself despise.2Wisdom is ofttimes n0earer when we stoop 2than when we soar. 3The wise only posses0s ideas; 2the greater part of 1mankind are possesse2d by them. 3By wisdom wealth is 0won; 2but riches purchased1 wisdom yet for none2. 3The doorstep to the 0temple of wisdom 2is a knowledge of ou1r own ignorance. 2One fool can ask mor0e questions in a min2ute 3than twelve wise men1 can answer in an ho2ur. 3When all desires tha0t surge in the heart2 are 3 Renounced, the mor1tal becomes immortal2. 3When all the knots t1hat strangle the hea2rt are 3 Loosened, the mort1al becomes immortal.2This sums up the tea1ching of the Scriptu2res. 3The sky holds no tra0ce of bird or smoke 2or storm; 3an evil teaching car1ries no Enlightenmen2t; 3nothing in this worl1d is stable; 2but an Enlightened m1ind is undisturbed. 2By three methods we 0may learn wisdom: 2 First, by reflecti1on which is noblest;2 second, by imitati1on, which is the eas2iest; 3 and third, by expe1rience, which is the2 bitterest. 3A short saying oft c0ontains much wisdom.2He was a wise man wh0o originated the ide2a of God. 3Wonder is the feelin0g of a philosopher, 2and philosophy begin1s in wonder. 2True wisdom consists0 not in seeing what 2is immediately 3before our eyes, but1 in forseeing what i2s to come. 3The Beginning of Phi0losophy...is a Consc2iousness of your 3own Weakness and ina1bility in necessary 2things. 3He who looks on anot0her's wife as a moth2er, on another's 3goods as a clod of e1arth, and on all cre2atures as himself, 3is a wise man. 1Though by wicked act0s one may reach one'2s aim, 3A wise man never res1orts to such means. 2The wise are not ash1amed if they do not 2reach their goal, 3Provided they have r1ighteously endeavore2d for it. 3The most evident tok0en and apparent sign2 of true wisdom 3is a constant and un1constrained rejoicin2g. 3A prudent question i0s one-half of wisdom2. 3The strongest sympto0m of wisdom in man i2s 3his being sensible o1f his own follies. 2The wisest man is ge0nerally he who think2s himself the least 3so. 1The discovery of wha0t is true, and the p2ractice of that 3which is good, are t1he two most importan2t objects of 3philosophy. 1Clearness marks the 0sincerity of philoso2phers. 3Wisdom and goodness 0are twin-born, one h2eart 3must hold both siste1rs, never seen apart2. 3Common sense in an u0ncommon degree 2is what the world ca1lls wisdom. 2Philosophy is a kind0 of journey, 2ever learning yet ne1ver arriving 2at the ideal perfect1ion of truth. 2The philosophy of on0e century is the com2mon sense of the 3next. 1The art of being wis0e is the art of know2ing what to 3overlook. 1When fruit becomes b0ig, the flower falls2 down of its own 3accord. Even so, hu1man nature, disappea2rs when divine 3nature sets in. 1The lips of the wise0 are as the doors of2 a cabinet; no 3sooner are they open1ed, but treasures ar2e poured out 3before thee. Like u1nto trees of gold ar2ranged in beds 3of silver, are wise 1sentences uttered in2 due season. 3That which is bright0 rises twice: 2The image of FIRE. 1Thus the great man, 1by perpetuating this2 brightness, 3Illumines the four q1uarters of the world2. 3Happy is the man who0 finds wisdom, 2 and the man who ge1ts understanding, 2for the gain from it1 is better than gain2 from silver 3 and its profit bet1ter than gold. 2She is more precious1 than jewels, 2 and nothing you de1sire can compare wit2h her. 3Long life is in her 1right hand; 2 in her left hand a1re riches and honor.2Her ways are ways of1 pleasantness, 2 and all her paths 1are peace. 2She is a tree of lif1e to those who lay h2old of her; 3 those who hold her1 fast are called hap2py. 3When the wise realiz0e the omnipresent Sp2irit, who rests 3invisible in the vis1ible and permanent i2n the impermanent, 3then they go beyond 1sorrow. 2The sage does not ho0ard. 2The more he helps ot1hers, the more he be2nefits himself, 3The more he gives to1 others, the more he2 gets himself. 3The Way of Heaven do1es one good but neve2r does one harm. 3The Way of the sage 1is to act but not to2 compete. 3A wise man, recogniz0ing that the world i2s but an illusion, 3does not act as if i1t is real, so he esc2apes the suffering. 3Perfect wisdom has f0our parts: Wisdom, 2the principle 3of doing things arig1ht. Justice, the pr2inciple of doing 3things equally in pu1blic and private. F2ortitude, the 3principle of not fle1eing danger, but mee2ting it. 3Temperance, the prin1ciple of subduing de2sires and living 3moderately. 1Philosophy is the cu0ltivation of the men2tal faculties; 3it roots out vices a1nd prepares the mind2 to receive 3proper seed. 1Philosophy is the ar0t and law of life, a2nd it teaches us 3what to do in all ca1ses, and, like good 2marksmen, to hit 3the white at any dis1tance. 2Wisdom is the conque0ror of fortune. 2Wisdom is to the min0d what health is to 2the body. 3The weak have remedi0es, the wise have jo2ys; 3superior wisdom is s1uperior bliss. 2They whom truth and 0wisdom lead 2Can gather honey fro1m a weed. 2His high endeavors a0re an inward light 2That makes the path 1before him always br2ight. 3The adept may reach 0one of those rare mo2ments that spell 3illumination - aware1 of the light of the2 consciousness 3that illumines our c1onsciousness as the 2sun dawns on the 3sleeping earth and b1athes it in effulgen2ce. 3The pine stays green0 in winter... 2Wisdom in hardship. 1In youth and beauty 0wisdom is but rare! 2Enlightenment has no0 definite form or na2ture by which it 3can manifest itself,1 so in Enlightenment2 itself, there 3is nothing to be enl1ightened. 2We become wiser by a0dversity; 2prosperity destroys 1our appreciation of 2the right. 3Philosophy triumphs 0easily over past and2 future evils; 3but present evils tr1iumph over it. 2When he to whom one 0speaks does not unde2rstand, and he who 3speaks himself does 1not understand, this2 is metaphysics. 3Where ignorance is b0liss - Tis folly to 2be wise. 3Metaphysics is a dar0k ocean without shor2es or lighthouse, 3strewn with many a p1hilosophic wreck. 2It is easy for men t0o write and talk lik2e philosophers, 3but to act with wisd1om, there is the rub2! 3The philosophers hav0e only interpreted t2he world; 3the thing, however, 1is to change it. 2Philosophy: A route0 of many roads leadi2ng from nowhere 3to nothing. 1Metaphysics is almos0t always an attempt 2to prove the 3incredible by an app1eal to the unintelli2gible. 3O people of the eart0h, men born and made2 of the elements, 3but with the spirit 1of the Divine Man wi2thin you, rise from 3your sleep of ignora1nce! Be sober and t2houghtful. Realize 3that your home is no1t on the earth but i2n the Light. Why 3have you delivered y1ourselves over unto 2death, having power 3to partake of immort1ality? Repent, and 2change your minds. 3Depart from the dark1 light and forsake c2orruption forever. 3Prepare to blend you1r souls with the Ete2rnal Light. 3Presume not in prosp0erity, neither despa2ir in adversity: 3court not dangers, n1or meanly fly from b2efore them: 3dare to despise what1ever will not remain2 with thee. 3Those who know do no0t talk. 2Those who talk do no1t know. 2Keep your mouth clos1ed. 2Guard your senses. 1Temper your sharpnes1s. 2Simplify your proble1ms. 2Mask your brightness1. 2Be at one with the d1ust of the earth. 2This is primal union1. 2He who has achieved 1this state 2Is unconcerned with 1friends and enemies.2With good and harm, 1with honor and disgr2ace. 3This therefore is th1e highest state of m2an. 3Those who seek the t0rue path to Enlighte2nment must not 3expect an easy task 1or one made pleasant2 by offers of 3respect and honor an1d devotion. And fur2ther, they must 3not aim with a sligh1t effort, at a trifl2ing advance in 3calmness or knowledg1e or insight. 2Make thy study of th0e word of The Eterna2l a fixed practice; 3say little and do mu1ch; and receive all 2men with a cheerful 3countenance. 1Those who are wise l0ament neither for th2e living nor the 3dead. 1To make no mistakes 0is not in the power 2of man; but from 3their errors and mis1takes the wise and g2ood learn wisdom 3for the future. 1In seeking Wisdom, t0he first stage is si2lence, the second 3listening, the third1 remembrance, the fo2urth practicing, 3the fifth teaching. 1The sublimity of wis0dom is to do those t2hings living, 3which are to be desi1red when dying. 2The clouds may drop 0down titles and esta2tes, wealth may seek3us; but wisdom must 1be sought. 2To act with common s0ense, according to t2he moment, is the 3best wisdom; and the1 best philosophy is 2to do one's duties, 3to take the world as1 it comes, submit re2spectfully to one's 3lot, bless the goodn1ess that has given u2s so much happiness 3with it, whatever it1 is. 2Knowledge dwells in 0heads replete with t2houghts of other 3men; wisdom in minds1 attentive to their 2own. 3Call him wise whose 0actions, words, and 2steps are all a 3clear because to a c1lear why. 2Inspect the neighbor0hood of thy life; 2every shelf, every n1ook of thine abode. 2The sum of wisdom is0 that time is never 2lost that is devoted3to work. 1To be a philosopher 0is not merely to hav2e subtle thoughts; 3but so to love wisdo1m as to live accordi2ng to its dictates. 3If thou would'st hav0e that stream of har2d-earn'd knowledge, 3of Wisdom heaven-bor1n, remain sweet runn2ing waters, 3thou should'st not l1eave it to become a 2stagnant pond. 3Nine-tenths of wisdo0m consists in being 2wise in time. 3To admit ignorance i0s to exhibit wisdom.2The kind man discove0rs it and calls it k2ind. 3The wise man discove1rs it and calls it w2ise. 3The people use it da1y by day and are not2 aware of it, 3for the way of the s1uperior man is rare.2This Self is not rea0lizable by study nor2 even by intelli- 3gence and learning. 1 The Self reveals it2s essence only to 3him who applies hims1elf to the Self. He2 who has not given 3up the ways of vice,1 who cannot control 2himself, who is not 3at peace within, who1se mind is distracte2d, can never realize3the Self, though ful1l of all the learnin2g in the world. 3Attain complete vacu0ity, 2Maintain steadfast q1uietude. 2All things come into1 being, 2And I see thereby th1eir return. 2All things flourish,1But each one returns1 to its root. 2This return to its r1oot means tranquilit2y. 3It is called returni1ng to its destiny. 2To return to destiny1 is called The Etern2al. 3To know The Eternal 1is called enlightenm2ent. 3Not to know The Eter1nal is to act blindl2y 3 which results in d1isaster. 2Who, knowing the all0 in all its parts, 2For all its phases h1ath no lust, 2By comprehension of 1the all 2He truly hath escape1d all-ill. 2The way of a superio0r man is threefold: 2 Virtuous, he is fr1ee from anxieties; 2 Wise, he is free f1rom perplexities; 2 Bold, he is free f1rom fear. 2He whose fear of sin0 takes precedence ov2er his wisdom, his 3wisdom will endure; 1but he whose wisdom 2takes precedence 3over his fear of sin1, his wisdom will no2t endure...He whose 3works exceed his wis1dom, his wisdom will2 endure; but he 3whose wisdom exceeds1 his works, his wisd2om will not endure. 3The Ancient oracle s0aid I was the wisest2 of all the Greeks. 3 It is becau1se I alone, of all t2he Greeks, 3 kno1w that I know nothin2g. 3There are two senten0ces inscribed upon t2he Ancient oracle...3"Know thyself" and "1Nothing too much"; a2nd upon these all 3other precepts depen1d. 2When you strive to g0ain quiescence by st2opping motion, 3The quiescence thus 1gained is ever in mo2tion; 3As long as you tarry1 in the dualism, 2How can you realize 1oneness? 2Old pond: 0 frog jump in 1 water-sound. 1The wisdom of the wi0se and the experienc2e of ages 3may be preserved by 1quotation. 2The philosopher is N0ature's pilot. And 2there you have our 3difference: to be i1n hell is to drift: 2 to be in heaven 3is to steer. 1Wisdom alone is true0 ambition's aim 2Wisdom the source of1 virtue, and of fame2, 3Obtained with labour1, for mankind employ2ed, 3And then, when most 1you share it, best e2njoyed. 3Books are immortal s0ons deifying their s2ires. 3Books are ships whic0h pass through the v2ast sea of time. 3Words are the soul's0 ambassadors, who go2Abroad upon her erra1nds to and fro. 2Words are but pictur0es of our thoughts. 2Books, the children 0of the brain. 2Poetry, the eldest s0ister of all arts, a2nd parent of most. 3Words are but the si0gns of ideas. 2Prose - words in the0ir best order; 2Poetry - the best wo1rds in their best or2der. 3All poetry is but a 0giving of names. 2Poetry is truth dwel0ling in beauty. 2Language is the pict0ure and counterpart 2of thought. 3Language is a city t0o the building of wh2ich every human 3being brought a ston1e. 2Language is the ligh0t of the mind. 2Poetry is the rhythm0ical creation of bea2uty in words. 3Literature is news t0hat stays news. 2Poetry is finer and 0more philosophical t2han history; 3for poetry expresses1 the universal, 2and history only the1 particular. 2The same words conce0al and declare the t2houghts of men. 3The word is half his0 that speaks, 2and half his that he1ars it. 2Men suppose their re0ason has command ove2r their words; 3still it happens tha1t words in return ex2ercise authority on 3reason. 1Words are the counte0rs of wise man, and 2the money of fools. 3The last thing that 0we discover in writi2ng a book 3is to know what to p1ut at the beginning.2It is with books as 0with men: a very sm2all number play a 3great part, the rest1 are lost in the mul2titude. 3The only end of writ0ing is to enable the2 readers better to 3enjoy life or better1 to endure it. 2Words are the daught0ers of the earth, 2and things are the s1ons of heaven. 2Words, like eyeglass0es, blur everything 2that they do not 3make more clear. 1Books are the best t0hings, well used: a2bused, among 3the worst. 1Words are both bette0r and worse than tho2ughts, they express 3them, and add to the1m; they give them po2wer for good or 3evil; they start the1m on an endless flig2ht, for instruction 3and comfort and bles1sing, or for injury 2and sorrow and ruin.3Poetry puts the infi0nite within the fini2te. 3Words are often seen0 hunting for an idea2, 3but ideas are never 1seen hunting for wor2ds. 3Some words are like 0rays of sunshine, ot2hers like barbed 3arrows or the bite o1f a serpent. And if2 hard words cut so 3deep, how much pleas1ure can kind ones gi2ve? 3Nine times out of te0n, the coarse word i2s the word that 3condemns an evil and1 the refined word th2e word that excuses 3it. 1Words are potent wea0pons for all causes,2 good or bad. 3Bitter words are goo0d medicine... 2Sweet words carry in1fection. 2This universe is a t0rinity and this is m2ade of name, form, 3and action. The sou1rce of all names is 2the word, for it is 3by the word that all1 names are spoken. 2The word is behind 3all names, even as t1he Eternal is behind2 the word. 3Without knowing the 0force of words, 2it is impossible to 1know men. 2Knowledge is the fou0ndation and source o2f good writing. 3The desire to write 0grows with writing. 2The pen is the tongu0e of the mind. 2Syllables govern the0 world. 2Oaths are but words,0 and words are but w2ind. 3Poetry is of so subt0le a spirit, that in2 the pouring out of 3one language into an1other it will evapor2ate. 3The world is satisfi0ed with words. 2Few appreciate the t1hings beneath. 2Proper words in prop0er places, 2make the true defini1tion of a style. 2Ideas in the mind ar0e the transcript of 2the world; 3words are the transc1ript of ideas; 2and writing and prin1ting are the transcr2ipt of words. 3True ease in writing0 comes from art, not2 chance, 3As those move easies1t who have learn'd t2o dance. 3One great use of wor0ds is to hide our th2oughts. 3Literature is a frag0ment of a fragment; 2of all that ever hap1pened, or has been s2aid, but a fraction 3has been written, an1d of this but little2 is extant. 3Language is the armo0ry of the human mind2, and at once 3contains the trophie1s of its past and th2e weapons of its 3future conquests. 1Language is not only0 the vehicle of thou2ght, 3it is a great and ef1ficient instrument i2n thinking. 3Words are the only t0hings that last fore2ver. 3There are words whic0h are worth as much 2as the best actions,3for they contain the1 germ of them all. 2But words are things0, and a small drop o2f ink, 3 Falling, like dew,1 upon a thought prod2uces 3That which makes tho1usands, perhaps mill2ions think. 3A poem is the very i0mage of life 2expressed in its ete1rnal truth. 2Poetry we will call 0Musical Thought. 2A moment of thinking0 is an hour of words2. 3By poetry we mean th0e art of employing w2ords in such a 3manner as to produce1 an illusion on the 2imagination; 3the art of doing by 1means of words, 2what the painter doe1s by means of colors2. 3It does not need tha0t a poem should be l2ong. 3Every word was once 1a poem. 2As shadows attend su0bstances, so words f2ollow upon things. 3The idea, word and w0riting (of the word)2, are signs to man 3for a thing, and is 1not the thing itself2, to the Creator, 3however, idea, word 1and writing (of the 2word) are the thing 3itself, or as some a1ncients remarked: "2Idea, word and work 3are one and the same1 to God." 2With a knowledge of 0the name comes a dis2tincter recognition 3and knowledge of the1 thing. 2The oldest books are0 still only just out2 to those who have 3not read them. 1The great art of wri0ting is the art of m2aking people real 3to themselves with w1ords. 2Words are, of couse,0 the most powerful d2rug used by mankind.3To write simply is a0s difficult as to be2 good. 3Great literature is 0simply language char2ged with meaning to 3the utmost possible 1degree. 2Many books do not us0e up words... 2Many words do not us1e up thought. 2A word fitly spoken 0is like apples of go2ld 3in pictures of silve1r. 2Poetry comes nearer 0to vital truth than 2history. 3How forcible are rig0ht words! 2We see then how far 0the monuments of wit2 and learning are 3more durable than th1e monuments of power2, or of the hands. 3For have not some bo1oks continued twenty2-five hundred years 3or more, without the1 loss of a syllable 2or letter; during 3which time infinite 1palaces, temples, ca2stles, and cities 3have been decayed an1d demolished? 2Books give not wisdo0m where none was bef2ore, 3But where some is, t1here reading makes i2t more. 3A good book is the p0recious lifeblood of2 a master spirit, 3embalmed and treasur1ed up on purpose to 2a life beyond life. 3Good words do more t0han hard speeches, a2s the sunbeams 3without any noise wi1ll make the travelle2r cast off his 3cloak, which all the1 blustering winds co2uld not do, but 3only make him bind i1t closer to him. 2Of all those arts in0 which the wise exce2l, 3Nature's chief maste1rpiece is writing we2ll. 3Poetry is the music 0of the soul, and, ab2ove all, of great 3and feeling souls. 1The chief glory of e0very people arises f2rom its authors. 3The writings of the 0wise are the only ri2ches our posterity 3cannot squander. 1That writer does the0 most, who gives his2 reader the most 3knowledge, and takes1 from him the least 2time. 3Poetry is the record0 of the best and hap2piest moments 3of the happiest and 1best minds. 2All that Mankind has0 done, thought, gain2ed or been is 3lying as in magic pr1eservation in the pa2ges of Books. 3They are the chosen 1possession of men. 2That is a good book 0which is opened with2 expectation and 3closed with profit. 1In the highest civil0ization the book is 2still the highest 3delight. 1Literature is an ave0nue to glory, ever o2pen for those 3ingenious men who ar1e deprived of honour2s or of wealth. 3With words we govern0 men. 2A good book is the b0est of friends, 2the same to-day and 1forever. 2A powerful agent is 0the right word. Whe2never we come upon 3one of those intense1ly right words in a 2book or a newspaper 3the resulting effect1 is physical as well2 as spiritual... 3A poem begins in del0ight and ends in wis2dom. 3But for all their in0adequacy and their r2adical unlikeness to3the facts to which t1hey refer, words rem2ain the most 3reliable and accurat1e of our symbols. W2henever we want to 3have a precise repor1t of facts or ideas,2 we must resort to 3words. 1Words are one of our0 chief means of adju2sting to all the 3situations of life. 1 The better control 2we have over words, 3the more successful 1our adjustment is li2kely to be. 3One kind word can wa0rm three winter mont2hs. 3Words spoken may fly0 away... 2The writing-brush le1aves its mark. 2To utter pleasant wo0rds without practisi2ng them, 3is like a fine flowe1r without fragrance.2If names are not cor0rect, language will 2not be in accordance3with the truth of th1ings. 2The chief virtue tha0t language can have 2is clearness, and 3nothing detracts fro1m it so much as the 2use of unfamiliar 3words. 1Poets utter great an0d wise things which 2they do not them- 3selves understand. 1Words are used to ex0press meaning; 2when you understand 1the meaning, 2you can forget about1 the words. 2It is as easy to dra0w back a stone throw2n with force from 3the hand, as to reca1ll a word once spoke2n. 3He utters empty word0s, he utters sound w2ithout mind. 3There is no need of 0words; believe facts2. 3Men of few words are0 the best men. 2Obscurity in writing0 is commonly an argu2ment of darkness in 3the mind. The great1est learning is to b2e seen in the 3greatest plainness. 1A single word often 0betrays a great desi2gn. 3The multitude of boo0ks is making us igno2rant. 3A successful author 0is equally in danger2 of diminution of 3his fame, whether he1 continues or ceases2 to write. 3A very great part of0 the mischiefs that 2vex this world 3arises from words. 1Volatility of words 0is carelessness in a2ctions; 3words are the wings 1of actions. 2How many people make0 themselves abstract2 to appear profound.3The great part of ab1stract terms are sha2dows that hide a 3vacuum. 1A word too much alwa0ys defeats its purpo2se. 3An author who speaks0 about his own books2 is almost as bad as3a mother who talks a1bout her own childre2n. 3Most books, indeed, 0are records less 2Of fullness than emp1tiness. 2A thousand words wil0l not leave so deep 2an impression 3as one deed. 1Actions are the firs0t tragedies in life,2 words are the 3second. Words are p1erhaps the worst. W2ords are merciless. 3The difference betwe0en journalism and li2terature is that 3journalism is unread1able and literature 2is not read. 3Water and words... 0Easy to pour 1Impossible to recove1r. 2Use words sparingly,0then all things will1 fall into place. 2A tornado does not l1ast a whole morning.2A downpour of rain d1oes not last a whole2 day. 3And who works these?1Heaven and Earth. 1What Heaven and Eart1h cannot do enduring2ly: 3how much less can ma1n do it? 2Do not say a little 0in many words but a 2great deal in a few.3Let your literary co0mpositions be kept f2rom the public 3eye for nine years a1t least. 2Ye who write, choose0 a subject suited to2 your abilities. 3If you would be a re0ader, read; if a wri2ter, write. 3When words are scarc0e they're seldom spe2nt in vain. 3In words, as fashion0s, the same rule wil2l hold; 3 Alike fantastic, i1f too new, or old: 2Be not the first by 1whom the new are tri2ed, 3 Nor yet the last t1o lay the old aside.2A good writer does n0ot write as people w2rite, 3but as he writes. 1It is in books the c0hief of all perfecti2ons 3to be plain and brie1f. 2If you be pungent, b0e brief; for it is w2ith words as with 3sunbeams - the more 1they are condensed t2he deeper they burn.3Make the same use of0 a book that the bee2 does of a flower: 3she steals sweets fr1om it, but does not 2injure it. 3Master books, but do0 not let them master2 you. - 3Read to live, not li1ve to read. 2In science, read, by0 preference, the new2est works; 3in literature, the o1ldest. 2The classic literatu1re is always modern.2An orator or author 0is never successful 2till he has 3learned to make his 1words smaller than h2is ideas. 3The writer must earn0 money in order to b2e able to live and 3to write, but he mus1t by no means live a2nd write for the 3purpose of making mo1ney. 2A book should be lum0inous, but not volum2inous. 3The word which appea0red as a pillar of f2lame out of the 3darkness is the Son 1of God, born of the 2mystery of the Mind.3The name of that Wor1d is Reason. Reason2 is the offspring of3Thought and Reason s1hall divide the Ligh2t from the darkness 3and establish Truth 1in the midst of the 2waters. 3Twenty-two letters: 0 He drew them, hewed2 them, combined 3them, weighed them, 1interchanged them, a2nd through them 3produced the whole c1reation and everythi2ng that is destined 3to come into being. 1The paper burns, but0 the words fly away.2It is not possible t0o attain to an under2standing of the 3creation of man, exc1ept by the mystery o2f letters; and in 3these worlds of The 1Infinite is nothing,2 except the letters 3of the Alphabet and 1their combinations. 2 All the worlds are 3Letters and Names; b1ut He Who is the Aut2hor of all, has no 3name. 1What do you read, my0 lord? 2 Words, words, word1s. 2One merit of poetry 0few persons will den2y: 3it says more and in 1fewer words than pro2se. 3Your manuscript is b0oth good and origina2l; 3but the part that is1 good is not origina2l, 3and the part that is1 original is not goo2d. 3How pure the joy whe0n first my hands unf2old 3The small, rare volu1me, black with tarni2shed gold. 3O! many a shaft, at0 ramdom sent, 2Finds mark the arche1r little meant! 2And many a word, at 1random spoken, 2May soothe or wound 1a heart that's broke2n! 3The world is full of0 poetry. - The air i2s living with its 3spirit; and the wave1s dance to the music2 of its melodies, 3and sparkle in its b1rightness. 2In books lies the so0ul of the whole Past2 Time; 3the articulate audib1le voice of the Past2, 3when the body and ma1terial substance of 2it 3has altogether vanis1hed like a dream. 2For no man can write0 anything who does n2ot think that what 3he writes is, for th1e time, the history 2of the world. 3He who writes prose 0builds his temple to2 Fame in rubble; 3he who writes verses1 builds it in granit2e. 3The Word of God is t0he universal and inv2isible Light, 3cognizable by the se1nses, that emits its2 blaze in the Sun, 3Moon, Planets, and o1ther Stars. 2There is probably no0 hell for authors in2 the next world- 3they suffer so much 1from critics and pub2lishers in this. 3A definition enclose0s a wilderness of id2ea 3within a wall of wor1ds. 2But from sharp words0 and wits men pluck 2no fruit; 3And gathering thorns1 they shake the tree2 at root; 3For words divide and1 rend, 2But silence is most 1noble till the end. 2And while the great 0and wise decay, 2And while their trop1hies pass away, 2Some sudden thought,1 some careless rhyme2, 3Still floats above t1he wrecks of time. 2God wove a web of lo0veliness, 2of clouds and stars 1and birds, 2but made not anythin1g at all 2so beautiful as word1s. 2Labor is life. 0The essence of work 0is concentrated ener2gy. 3If you pursue good w0ith labor, 2 the labor passes a1way but the good rem2ains; 3if you pursue evil w1ith pleasure, 2 the pleasure passe1s away and the evil 2remains. 3Men of lofty genius 0when they are doing 2the least work are 3most active. 1A man is not idle be0cause he is absorbed2 in thought. 3There is a visible l1abor and there is an2 invisible labor. 3Business despatched 0is business well don2e, 3but business hurried1 is business ill don2e. 3The highest excellen0ce is seldom attaine2d in more than one 3vocation. The roads1 leading to distinct2ion in separate 3pursuits diverge, an1d the nearer we appr2oach the one, the 3farther we recede fr1om the other. 2Work consists of wha0tever a body is obli2ged to do, 3and Play consists of1 whatever a body is 2not obliged to do. 3The finest eloquence0 is that which gets 2things done; 3the worst is that wh1ich delays them. 2Work is work if you'0re paid to do it, 2and it's pleasure if1 you pay to be allow2ed to do it. 3Better is a man of h0umble standing who w2orks for himself 3 than one who plays 1the great man but la2cks bread. 3He whose wisdom exce0eds his works, to wh2at may he be 3likened? To a tree 1whose branches are n2umerous but whose 3roots are few. The 1wind comes along and2 uproots it and 3sweeps it down. 1Work divided is in t0hat manner shortened2. 3Each natural agent w0orks but to this end2, 3To render that it wo1rks on like itself. 2Excellence, in any d0epartment, 2can only be attained1 by the labor of a l2ifetime. 3It is not purchased 1at a lesser price. 2Labour was the first0 price, the original2 purchase-money that3was paid for all thi1ngs. It was not by 2gold or by silver, 3but by labour, that 1all wealth of the wo2rld was originally 3purchased. 1It is the first of a0ll problems for a ma2n to find out 3what kind of work he1 is to do in this un2iverse. 3Without ambition one0 starts nothing. Wi2thout work one 3finishes nothing. T1he prize will not be2 sent to you. You 3have to win it. The1 man who knows how w2ill always have a 3job. The man who al1so knows why will al2ways be his boss. As3to methods there may1 be a million and th2en some, but 3principles are few. 1 The man who grasps 2principles can 3successfully select 1his own methods. Th2e man who tries 3methods, ignoring pr1inciples, is sure to2 have trouble. 3Labor is prior to an0d independent of cap2ital. Capital is 3only the fruit of la1bor, and could never2 have existed if 3labor had not first 1existed. 2The moment a man can0 really do his work,2 he becomes 3speechless about it;1 all words are idle 2to him; 3all theories. Does 1a bird need to theor2ize about building 3its nest, or boast o1f it when built? Al2l good work is 3essentially done tha1t way; without hesit2ation; without 3difficulty; without 1boasting. 2A man who has no off0ice to go to - I don2't care who he is - 3confronts a trial of1 which you can have 2no conception. 3The effectiveness of0 work increases acco2rding to geometric 3progression if there1 are no interruption2s. 3Work and love - thes0e are the basics. 2Without them there i1s neurosis. 2Firewood alone will 0not start a fire. 2Nothing is impossibl0e to industry. 2One who works in dev0otion, who is a pure2 soul, 3and who controls his1 mind and senses, 2is dear to everyone,1 and everyone is dea2r to him. 3Though always workin1g, such a man is nev2er entangled. 3As from a large heap0 of flowers many gar2lands and wreaths 3can be made, so by a1 mortal in this life2 there is much good 3work to be done. 1Any man who strives 0to do his best 2Whether his work be 1great or small 2Is considered to be 1doing the work of a 2lion. 3The labor of the bod0y relieves us from t2he fatigues of the 3mind; and it is this1 which forms the hap2piness of the poor. 3Work keeps at bay th0ree great evils: 2boredom, vice, and n1eed. 2No man ever was glor0ious, who was not la2borious. 3Nothing is denied to0 well-directed labor2, 3and nothing is ever 1to be attained witho2ut it. 3From labor, health; 0from health, content2ment springs. 3Labor is the great p0roducer of wealth; 2it moves all other c1auses. 2The work an unknown 0good man has done is2 like a vein of 3water flowing hidden1 underground, secret2ly making the 3ground green. 1Every man's task is 0his life-preserver. 2To work with the han0ds or brain, accordi2ng to our require- 3ments and our capaci1ties, to do that whi2ch lies before us 3to do, is more honor1able than rank and t2itle. 3Good for the body is0 the work of the bod2y, 3good for the soul is1 the work of the sou2l, 3and good for either 1the work of the othe2r. 3For his heart was in0 his work, and the h2eart 3Giveth grace unto ev1ery Art. 2As a remedy against 0all ills - poverty, 2sickness, and 3melancholy - only on1e thing is absolutel2y necessary: 3a liking for work. 1Work is the inevitab0le condition of huma2n life, 3the true source of w1elfare. 2We work to become, n0ot to acquire. 2Work is a high human0 function...the most2 dignified thing in 3the life of man. 1It is honour to thy 0nature when worthily2 employed; 3when thou directeth 1it to wrong purposes2, 3it shameth and destr1oyeth thee. 2Without labor nothin0g prospers. 2No labour bestowed u0pon a worthless thin2g can be productive 3of fruit; even by a 1hundred efforts a cr2ane cannot be made 3to talk like a parro1t. 2All work and no play0 makes Jack a dull b2oy. 3Hard labor is not wh0enever you are very 2actively employed, 3but when you must be1. 2In time a profession0 is like a marriage,2we cease to note any1thing but its inconv2eniences. 3Work is the curse of0 the world, and nobo2dy can meddle with 3it without becoming 1proportionately brut2ified. 3Men without duties t0o do, are like trees2 planted on 3precipices; from the1 roots of which all 2the earth has 3crumbled...and yet t1here are men who pri2de themselves that 3they and theirs have1 done no work. So n2either have the 3swine. 1Work is the refuge o0f people who have no2thing better to do. 3Folks who never do a0ny more than they ge2t paid for, 3never get paid for a1ny more than they do2. 3Work expands so as t0o fill the time avai2lable for its 3completion (and) the1 thing to be done sw2ells in importance 3and complexity in a 1direct ratio with th2e time to be spent. 3That man who knows t0oo many trades... 2his family starves. 1All are not called t0o the guiding of the2 helm of state; 3neither are there ar1mies to be commanded2 by every one; 3do well in that whic1h is committed to th2y charge, 3and praise shall rem1ain upon thee. 2When you are laborin0g for others let it 2be with the same 3zeal as if it were f1or yourself. 2It is better to do o0ne's own duty, howev2er defective it may 3be, than to follow t1he duty of another, 2however well one may3perform it. He who 1does his duty as his2 own nature reveals 3it, never sins. 1Nothing can be done 0at once hastily and 2prudently. 3Begin; to begin is h0alf the work. Let h2alf still remain; 3again begin this, an1d thou wilt have fin2ished. 3When occupations com0e to us we must acce2pt them; when things3come to us we must u1nderstand them from 2the ground up. 3Apply yourself both 0now and in the next 2life. 3Without effort, you 1cannot be prosperous2. 3Though the land be g1ood, 2You cannot have an a1bundant crop without2 cultivation. 3Whatever is worth do0ing at all is worth 2doing well. 3Plough deep while sl0uggards sleep. 2If you intend to wor0k, there is no bette2r place than right 3where you are; if yo1u do not intend to g2o to work, you 3cannot get along any1where. Squirming an2d crawling from 3place to place can d1o no good. 2When your work speak0s for itself, don't 2interrupt. 3The first creature o0f God, in the works 2of the days, 3was the light of the1 sense: the last wa2s the light of 3reason: and his sab1bath work ever since2 is the illumination3of his Spirit. 1Begin, be bold, and 0venture to be wise; 2He who defers his wo1rk from day to day, 2Does on a river's ba1nk expecting stay; 2Till the whole strea1m which stopped him 2should be gone, 3That runs, and as it1 runs, for ever will2 run on. 3All work of man is a0s the swimmer's. A 2vast ocean threatens3to devour him; if he1 front it not bravel2y, it will keep its 3word. By incessant 1wise defiance of it,2 lusty rebuke and 3buffet of it, behold1 how it loyally supp2orts him, bears him 3as its conqueror alo1ng! It is so with a2ll things that man 3undertakes in this w1orld. 2The Prime Material o0f the Great Work, in2 the Superior World,3is enthusiasm and ac1tivity; in the inter2mediate world, 3intelligence and ind1ustry; in the lower 2world, labor... 3The Great Work is, a1bove all things, the2 creation of man by 3himself; that is to 1say, the full and en2tire conquest which 3he effects of his fa1culties and his futu2re. 3Work for some good, 0be it ever so slowly2; 3Cherish some flower,1 be it ever so lowly2; 3Labour - all labour 1is noble and holy. 2I never did anything0 worth doing by acci2dent, 3nor did any of my in1ventions come by acc2ident; 3they came by work. 1Work thou for pleasu0re - paint or sing o2r carve 3The thing thou loves1t, though the body s2tarve - 3Who works for glory 1misses oft the goal;2Who works for money 1coins his very soul.2Work for the work's 1sake, then, and it m2ay be 3That these things sh1all be added unto th2ee. 3I like work; it fasc0inates me. I can si2t and look at it 3for hours. I love t1o keep it by me: th2e idea of getting 3rid of it nearly bre1aks my heart. 2But till we are buil0t like angels, 2 with hammer and ch1isel and pen, 2We will work for our1self and a woman, 2 for ever and ever,1 Amen. 2By working faithfull0y eight hours a day,2 you may even- 3tually get to be a b1oss and work twelve 2hours a day. 3Work is love made vi0sible. And if you c2annot work with love3but only with distas1te, it is better tha2t you should leave 3your work and sit at1 the gate of the tem2ple and take alms of3those who work with 1joy. 2Anyone can do any am0ount of work provide2d it isn't 3the work he is suppo1sed to be doing at t2hat moment. 3The world is God's e0pistle to mankind - 2his thoughts are fla1shing upon us from e2very direction. 3The world is but a p0erpetual see-saw. 2The world is a wheel0, and it will all co2me round right. 3That one vast though0t of God which we ca2ll the world. 3The Universe is the 0periodical manifesta2tion of the unknown 3Absolute Essence. 1The Laws of Nature a0re such that things 2at their peak must 3decline and those at1 their lowest point 2must rise up, just 3as the sun and moon 1follow one another c2easelessly through 3the skies. Man also1 follows these Laws.2The Heavens seemed t0o men to fulfill the2 functions of 3father, and the Eart1h of mother. The fo2rmer impregnated 3the earth with its f1ertilizing rains, an2d the earth, 3receiving them, beca1me fruitful and brou2ght forth. 3The entire lower wor0ld was created in th2e likeness of the 3higher world. All t1hat exists in the hi2gher world appears 3like an image in thi1s lower world; yet a2ll this is but One. 3Like an image in a d0ream the world is tr2oubled by love, 3hatred, and other po1isons. So long as t2he dream lasts, 3the image appears to1 be real; but on awa2king it vanishes. 3The world in all doe0s but two nations be2ar, 3The good, the bad, a1nd these mixed every2where. 3But as the world, ha0rmoniously confused,2Where order in varie1ty we see; 2And where, tho' all 1things differ, all a2gree. 3This world is a come0dy to those who thin2k, 3a tragedy to those w1ho feel. 2The world is seldom 0what it seems; to ma2n, who dimly sees, 3realities appear as 1dreams, and dreams r2ealities. 3There are two worlds0; the world that we 2can measure with 3line and rule, and t1he world that we fee2l with our hearts 3and imaginations. 1A piece of wood may 0be saturated with wa2ter, 3water may in its tur1n be filled with gas2. 3Exactly the same rel1ation between differ2ent kinds of 3matter may be observ1ed in the whole of t2he universe: 3the finer matters pe1rmeate the coarser o2nes. 3The world is like a 0grand staircase, 2some are going up an1d some are going dow2n. 3Water floats a ship 0Water sinks a ship. 1The three mothers in0 the world are: air2, water and fire. 3Heaven was created f1rom fire or ether; t2he earth 3(comprising sea and 1land) from the eleme2ntary water; 3and the atmospheric 1air from the element2ary air, or spirit, 3which establishes th1e balance among them2. 3How Heaven and Earth0 are like a bellows!2While vacuous, it is1 never exhausted. 2One generation passe0th away, and another2 generation cometh: 3but the earth abidet1h for ever. 2The universal order 0and the personal ord2er are nothing but 3different expression1s and manifestations2 of a common 3underlying principle1. 2The wave, the sea, a0nd the bubbles are a2ll one. 3All is one, nothing 1else, whether less o2r more. 3The world's a theatr0e, the earth a stage2, 3Which God and nature1 do with actors fill2. 3All the world's a st0age, and all the men2 and women in it 3merely players. The1y have their exits a2nd their entrances; 3and one man in his t1ime plays many parts2. 3My soul, what's ligh0ter than a feather? 2 Wind. 3Than wind? The fire1. And what than fir2e? The Mind. 3What's lighter than 1the mind? A thought2. Than thought? 3This bubble world. 1What than this bubbl2e? Nought. 3The created world is0 but a small parenth2esis in eternity, 3and a short interpos1ition for a time, be2tween such a state 3of duration as was b1efore it, and may be2 after it. 3The world is a beaut0iful book, but of li2ttle use to him 3who cannot read it. 1Whoever has seen the0 masked at a ball da2nce amicably 3together, and take h1old of hands without2 knowing each other,3leaving the next mom1ent to meet no more,2 can form an idea of3the world. 1The world is a great0 ocean, upon which w2e encounter more 3tempestuous storms t1han calms. 2The first fundamenta0l law of the univers2e is the law of 3three forces, or thr1ee principles, or, a2s it is often 3called, the law of t1hree. According to 2this law every 3action, every phenom1enon in all worlds w2ithout exception, 3is the result of a s1itmultaneous action 2of three forces- 3the positive, the ne1gative, and the neut2ralizing. 3This world which con0sists of friends, en2emies and neutrals, 3which affects you wi1th pleasure and pain2, is only a creation3of your mind which i1s a product of ignor2ance. 3Man has a thousand p0lans... 2Heaven but one. 1By three things is t0he world sustained: 2by justice, by truth1, and by peace. 2Beauty from order sp0rings. 2Everything is for th0e best in the best o2f all possible 3worlds. 1O Earth! all bathed0 with blood and tear2s, yet never 3Hast thou ceased put1ting forth thy fruit2 and flowers. 3Long have I loved wh0at I behold. 2The night that calms1, the day that cheer2s; 3The common growth of1 mother-earth 2Suffices me. 1This world, after al0l our science and sc2iences, is still 3a miracle; wonderful1, inscrutable, magic2al and more, to 3whosoever will think1 of it. 2The Universe should 0be deemed an immense2 Being, always 3living, always moved1 and always moving i2n an eternal 3activity inherent in1 itself, and which, 2subordinate to no 3foreign cause, is co1mmunicated to all it2s parts, connects 3them together, and m1akes the world of th2ings a complete 3and perfect whole. 1For every man the wo0rld is as fresh as i2t was at the 3first day, and as fu1ll of untold novelti2es for him who 3has the eyes to see 1them. 2The grand show is et0ernal. It is always2 sunrise somewhere; 3the dew is never all1 dried at once; a sh2ower is forever 3falling; vapor is ev1er rising. Eternal 2sunrise, eternal 3sunset, eternal dawn1 and gleaming, on se2a and continents and3islands, each in its1 turn, as the round 2earth rolls. 3The world has no sel0f-substance of its o2wn. It is simply 3a vast concordance o1f causes and conditi2ons that have had 3their origin, solely1 and exclusively, in2 the activities of 3the mind as it has b1een stimulated by ig2norance, false 3imagination, desires1 and infatuation. 2Trust not the world,0 for it never payeth2 that it promiseth. 3The world is but a l0arge prison, 2out of which some ar1e daily selected for2 execution. 3The more a man drink0eth of the world, 2the more it intoxica1teth. 2The world is all a c0arcass and vanity, 2The shadow of a shad1ow, a play 2And in one word, jus1t nothing. 2What is this world? 0 Thy school, O miser2y! 3Our only lesson is t1o learn to suffer. 2The world, in its be0st state, is nothing2 more than a larger 3assembly of beings, 1combining to counter2feit happiness 3which they do not fe1el. 2Believe everything y0ou hear said of the 2world; 3nothing is too impos1sibly bad. 2This earth is but th0e dismal entrance le2ading to the 3twilight that preced1es the valley of tru2e light, 3that light which no 1wind can extinguish,2that light which bur1ns without a wick or2 fuel. 3The world rolls roun0d forever like a mil2l; 3It grinds out deaths1 and life and good a2nd ill; 3It has no purpose, h1eart or mind or will2. 3Man has lost the cap0acity to foresee and2 to forestall. 3He will end by destr1oying the earth. 2The world is an illu0sion. Friends are h2ypocritical cheats. 3Relatives are selfis1h bugs. There is no2ne on whom you can 3depend except God. 1Though a tree grow a0 thousand feet... 2The fruits will fall1 to earth again. 2Heaven lent you a so0ul 2Earth will lend a gr1ave. 2This world is like a0 foyer leading into 2the world to come - 3prepare thyself in t1he foyer so that tho2u mayest enter into 3the inner chamber. 1The world is a looki0ng glass, and gives 2back to every 3man the reflection o1f his own face. Fro2wn at it and it 3will in turn look so1urly upon you; laugh2 at it and with 3it, and it is a joll1y kind companion. 2You and I must not c0omplain if our plans2 break down if we 3have done our part. 1 That probably means2 that the plans of 3One who knows more t1han we do have succe2eded. 3Be sure of the found0ation of your life. 2 Know why you live 3as you do. Be ready1 to give a reason fo2r it. Do not, in 3such a matter as lif1e, build it on opini2on or custom or what3you guess is true. 1Make it matter of ce2rtainty and science.3The most efficient w0ay to live reasonabl2y is every morning 3to make a plan of on1e's day and every ni2ght to examine the 3results obtained. 1Your life will be no0 better than the pla2ns you make and the 3action you take. Yo1u are the architect 2and builder of your 3own life, fortune, d1estiny. 2In a vision he asked0 the Dragon (symbol 2of universal light) 3to disclose the natu1re of the universe a2nd the constitution 3of the gods...The Dr1agon acquiesced...Im2mediately the form 3of the Spirit change1d. Where it had sto2od there was a 3glorious and pulsati1ng Radiance. This L2ight was the 3spiritual nature of 1the Great Dragon its2elf. The universe 3of material things f1aded from his consci2ousness. Presently 3a great darkness des1cended and expanding2, swallowed up the 3Light. Everything w1as troubled. About 2Him swirled a 3mysterious watery su1bstance which gave f2orth a smokelike 3vapor. The air was 1filled with inarticu2late moanings and 3sighings which seeme1d to come from the L2ight swallowed up in3darkness. His mind 1told Him that the Li2ght was the form of 3the spiritual univer1se that the swirling2 darkness which had 3engulfed it represen1ted material substan2ce. Then out of the3imprisioned Light a 1mysterious and Holy 2Word came forth and 3took its stand upon 1the smoking waters. 2 This Word - the 3Voice of the Light -1 rose out of the dar2kness as a great 3pillar, and the fire1 and the air followe2d after it, but the 3earth and the water 1remained unmoved bel2ow. Thus Light was 3divided from darknes1s, and from the wate2rs of Light were 3formed the worlds ab1ove and from...darkn2ess...worlds below. 3The question of whet0her the universe has2 limits or is 3eternal can wait unt1il some way is found2 to extinguish the 3fires of birth, old 1age, sickness and de2ath; in the presence3of lamentation, sorr1ow, suffering, and p2ain; one should 3first search for a w1ay to solve these pr2oblems and then 3devote oneself to th1e practice of that w2ay. 3Beauty, strength, yo0uth, are flowers but2 fading seen; 3Duty, faith, love, a1re roots, and ever g2reen. 3Confusion heard his 0voice, and wild upro2ar 3Stood ruled, stood v1ast infinitude confi2ned; 3Till at his second b1idding darkness fled2, 3Light shone, and ord1er from disorder spr2ung. 3As beauteous is the 0world, and many a jo2y 3Floats through its w1ide dominion. But, 2alas, 3When we would seize 1the winged good, it 2flies, 3And step by step, al1ong the path of life2, 3Allures our yearning1 spirits to the grav2e. 3This world is all a 0fleeting show, 2 For man's illusion1 given; 2The smiles of joy, t1he tears of woe, 2Deceitful shine, dec1eitful flow,- 2 There's nothing tr1ue but Heaven. 2For the world was bu0ilt in order 2 And the atoms march1 in tune; 2Rhyme the pipe, and 1Time the warder, 2 The sun obeys them,1 and the moon. 2The Universe, which 0is the uttered Word 2of God, is infinite 3in extent. There is1 no empty space beyo2nd creation on any 3side. The Universe,1 which is the Though2t of God pronounced,3never was not, since1 God never was inert2; nor was, without 3thinking and creatin1g. The forms of cre2ation change, the 3suns and worlds live1 and die like the le2aves and the 3insects, but the Uni1verse itself is infi2nite and eternal, 3because God Is, Was,1 and Will forever Be2, and never did 3not think and create1. 2Earth took her shini0ng station as a star2, 3In Heaven's dark hal1l, high up the crowd2 of worlds. 3Love to his soul gav0e eyes; he knew thin2gs are not 3 as they seem. 1The dream is his rea1l life; the world ar2ound him 3 is the dream. 1The chess-board is t0he world, 2the pieces are the p1henomena of the univ2erse, 3the rules of the gam1e are what we call t2he laws of Nature. 3The player on the ot1her side is hidden f2rom us. 3This world is full o0f beauty, as other w2orlds above, 3And if we did our du1ty, it might be as f2ull of love. 3A man said to the un0iverse: 2"Sir, I exist!" 1"However," replied t1he universe, 2"That fact has not c1reated in me 2A sense of obligatio1n." 2Prayer is the contem0plation of the facts2 of life 3from the highest poi1nt of view. 2Prayer is the spirit0 speaking truth to T2ruth. 3Superstition is...re0ligion which has gro2wn incongruous with 3intelligence. 1All religions are th0erapies for the sorr2ows and disorders of3the soul. 1Religion is essentia0lly the art and the 2theory of the 3remaking of man. Ma1n is not a finished 2creation. 3Religion is the inte0llectual resolution 2of the unknown. 3The gods are the cre0ations of the create2d. They are not 3emanations of The Et1ernal. They are mad2e by the adoration 3of their worshippers1. It is not the god2s that do the work 3of creation. This i1s done by the great 2natural forces 3working each accordi1ng to its nature; th2e gods come into 3their procession aft1er the egg of manife2station has been 3laid in the darkness1 of the cosmic night2. 3He who pursues learn0ing will increase ev2ery day; 3He who pursues The E1ternal will decrease2 every day. 3He will decrease and1 continue to decreas2e, 3Till he comes at non1-action; 2By non-action everyt1hing can be done. 2Trouble and perplexi0ty drive me to praye2r, 3and prayer drives aw1ay perplexity and tr2ouble. 3My words fly up, my 0thoughts remain belo2w: 3Words without though1ts never to heaven g2o. 3Heaven is never deaf0 but when man's hear2t is dumb. 3Religion is the best0 armor in the world,2but the worst cloak.1In prayer it is bett0er to have a heart w2ithout words, 3than words without a1 heart. 2Religion is too ofte0n talked of, but too2 little known. 3In religion as in fr0iendship, 2they who profess mos1t are ever the least2 sincere. 3In earlier religions0 the spirit of the t2ime was expressed 3through the individu1al and confirmed by 2miracles. 3In modern religions 1the spirit is expres2sed through the many3and confirmed by rea1son. 2Prayer does not chan0ge God, but changes 2him who prays. 3The hands and feet o0f the man of God are2 nailed on earth 3 and free in the he1avens. 2The hands and feet o1f most are free on e2arth 3 and nailed in the 1heavens. 2Devotion is love for0 something higher th2an ourselves; 3something that evoke1s our idealism; 2which, while we desp1air becoming equal t2o it, 3yet makes us aspire 1to become like it. 2Not by speech, not b0y mind, 2Not by sight can He 1be apprehended. 2How can He be compre1hended 2Otherwise than by on1e's saying "He is"?.2.. 3The greatest prayer 0is patience. 2Prayer is the wing w0herewith the soul fl2ies to heaven, 3and meditation the e1ye wherewith we see 2God. 3Mystical union consi0sts in this: That y2ou reduce yourself 3to your unity in pro1claiming the unity o2f God - and thus God3makes you the witnes1s of yourself. 2It is God whom every0 lover loves in ever2y beloved. 3The fewer words the 0better prayer. 2Any system of religi0on that has anything2 in it that shocks 3the mind of a child,1 cannot be a true sy2stem. 3Prayer is to religio0n what thinking is t2o philosophy. 3To pray is to make r1eligion. 2There is but one tem0ple in the universe,2 and that is the 3body of man. Nothin1g is holier than tha2t high form...We 3touch heaven when we1 lay our hand on a h2uman body...We are 3the miracle of mirac1les, - the great ins2crutable Mystery. 3Symbols were the alm0ost universal langua2ge of ancient 3theology. They were1 the most obvious me2thod of instruction;3for, like nature her1self, they addressed2 the understanding 3through the eye... 1A prayer, in its sim0plest definition, is2 merely a wish 3turned heavenward. 1As one can ascend to0 the top of a house 2by means of a ladder1 or a tree or a stai2rcase or a rope, 3so diverse are the w1ays and means to app2roach God, 3and every religion i1n the world shows on2e of these ways. 3Every name of God an0d each attribute are2 but shadows of the 3Reality, limited man1ifestations of the L2imitless, as time is3an attribute of Eter1nity, mind an attrib2ute of 3Consciousness, flame1 an attribute of Fir2e. 3Prayer is a force as0 real as terrestial 2gravity...It is not 3only worship; it is 1also an invisible em2anation of man's 3worshipping spirit -1 the most powerful f2orm of energy that 3one can generate. 1Every real religion,0 that is, one that h2as been created by 3learned people for a1 definite aim, consi2sts of two parts. 3 One part teaches w1hat is to be done. 2This part becomes 3common knowledge and1 in the course of ti2me is distorted and 3departs from the ori1ginal. 2 The other part tea1ches how to do what 2the first part 3teaches. This part 1is preserved in secr2et in special 3schools and with its1 help it is always p2ossible to rectify 3what has been distor1ted in the first par2t or to restore what3has been forgotten. 1The unconscious can 0be reached and expre2ssed only by 3symbols, which is th1e reason why the pro2cess of 3individuation can ne1ver do without the s2ymbol. The 3symbol is the primit1ive expression of th2e unconscious, 3but at the same time1 it is also an idea 2corrresponding 3to the highest intui1tion produced by con2sciousness. 3Man's ultimate conce0rn must be expressed2 symbolically, 3because symbolic lan1guage alone is able 2to express the 3ultimate. 1Religion is the most0 rational science of2 life, the science 3of man as he essenti1ally is, the science2 which shows him how3he is a part of Cosm1os, how he ought to 2abide by the law of 3the Cosmos, and aim 1at the fulfilment of2 the evolutional 3process of the Cosmo1s. 2The word "prayer" is0 applied to at least2 four distinct 3procedures: petitio1n, intercession, ado2ration, and 3contemplation. 1If in the dark he kn0eels to pray... 2He really prays. 1When the wisest rest0s his mind in contem2plation on our God 3beyond time, who inv1isibly dwells in the2 mystery of things 3and the heart of man1, then he rises abov2e pleasures and 3sorrow. 1But the hour cometh,0 and now is, when th2e true worshippers 3shall worship the Fa1ther in spirit and i2n truth: for the 3Father seeketh such 1to worship him. God2 is a spirit: and 3they that worship hi1m must worship him i2n spirit and in 3truth. 1The worship most acc0eptable to God comes2 from a thankful and3cheerful heart. 1By association with 0the exalted, 2Who would not become1 uplifted? 2The thread which str1ings the flowers 2Becomes a garland fo1r the head. 2Prayer is a virtue t0hat prevaileth again2st all temptations. 3Truth is what prays 0in man, and a man is2 continually at 3prayer when he lives1 according to the tr2uth. 3True religion is the0 poetry of the heart2; 3it has enchantments 1useful to our manner2s; 3it gives us both hap1piness and virtue. 2Prayer purifies; it 0is a self-preached s2ermon. 3Between the humble a0nd contrite heart an2d the majesty of 3heaven there are no 1barriers; the only p2assword is prayer. 3Religion is a necess0ary, an indispensabl2e element in any 3great human characte1r. There is no livi2ng without it. 3Religion is the tie 1that connects man to2 his Creator, and 3holds him to his thr1one. 2Is not prayer a stud0y of truth, a sally 2of the soul into 3the unfound infinite1? - No man ever pray2ed heartily without 3learning something. 1Light was the first 0Divinity worshipped 2by men. To it 3they owed the brilli1ant spectacle of Nat2ure. It seems an 3emanation from the C1reator of all things2, making known to 3our senses the Unive1rse which darkness h2ides from our eyes, 3and, as it were, giv1ing it existence. 2True prayer is the c0ontemplation of all 2sacred things, of 3their application to1 ourselves, our dail2y life and actions, 3accompanied by the m1ost heartfelt and in2tense desire to make3their influence stro1nger and our lives b2etter and nobler... 3A generous prayer is0 never presented in 2vain; the petition 3may be refused, but 1the petitioner is al2ways, I believe, 3rewarded by some gra1cious visitation. 2All religions are eq0ually good. God is 2the fruit of any 3religion truly pract1ised. Make no mista2ke about it. God 3is one. Truth is on1e. The colour of th2e cow may be 3different, but milk 1is white. 2Rites, sacraments, a0nd ceremonials are v2aluable to the 3extent that they rem1ind those who take p2art in them of the 3true Nature of Thing1s. 2There is no greater 0intoxication than th2at of love 3when it transcends t1he human object and 2is directed 3towards the divine b1eing. 2If one profanes the 0name of heaven in se2cret he shall be 3punished in broad da1ylight: unwittingly2 or wittingly, it 3is all one in profan1ing the name. 2Cease to think that 0the decrees of the g2ods can be 3changed by prayers. 1Nothing costs so muc0h as what is bought 2by prayers. 3The saviour of wande0ring in the ocean of2 deathless life 3 has rid me of all 1my asking; 2As the tree is in th1e seed, 2 so all diseases ar1e in this asking. 2Religion, which shou0ld most distinguish 2us from beasts, and 3ought most peculiarl1y to elevate us, as 2rational creatures, 3above brutes, is tha1t wherein men often 2appear most 3irrational, and more1 senseless than beas2ts themselves. 3The notion of the Tr0inity of Gods has en2feebled the belief 3in one God. A multi1plication of beliefs2 acts as a division 3of belief; and in pr1oportion as anything2 is divided it is 3weakened. 1A religion that requ0ires persecution to 2sustain it is of the3devil's propagation.1Men will wrangle for0 religion; write for2 it; fight for it; 3die for it; anything1 but - live for it. 2The world would be a0stonished if it knew2 how great a 3proportion of its br1ightest ornaments, o2f those most 3distinguished even i1n popular estimation2 for wisdom and 3virtue, are complete1 skeptics in religio2n. 3Men are idolaters, a0nd want something to2 look at and kiss 3and hug, or throw th1emselves down before2; they always did, 3they always will, an1d if you don't make 2it of wood, you must3make it of words. 1People of this age c0are for the essence 2of everything. 3They will accept the1 essential of religi2on and not its 3non-essentials (that1 is, the rituals, ce2remonials, dogmas 3and creeds). 1Prayer - to ask that0 the laws of the uni2verse be annulled in3behalf of a single p1etitioner confessedl2y unworthy. 3Religion is a monume0ntal chapter in the 2history of human 3egotism. 1There is not even en0ough religion in the2 world to destroy 3the world's religion1s. 2When the gods wish t0o punish us they ans2wer our prayers. 3My debts are large, 0my failures great, m2y shame secret and 3heavy; yet when I co1me to ask for my goo2d, I quake in fear 3lest my prayer be gr1anted. 2Religion is the last0 refuge of human sav2agery. 3Religion without myt0h not only fails to 2work, it also fails 3to offer man the pro1mise of unity with t2he transpersonal and3eternal. 1Priests are no more 0necessary to religio2n 3than politicians to 1patriotism. 2An atheist is a man 0who has no invisible2 means of support. 3One should worship w0ith the thought that2 he is just one's 3self, for therein al1l these become one. 2 That same thing, 3namely this self, is1 the trace of this A2ll, for by it one 3knows this All... He1 finds fame and prai2se who knows this...3Our prayers should b0e for blessings in g2eneral, 3for God knows best w1hat is good for us. 2Pray to God, at the 0beginning of all thy2 works, 3so that thou mayest 1bring them all to a 2good ending. 3Seek not the law in 0your scriptures, for2 the law is life, 3whereas the scriptur1e is dead...The law 2is living word of 3living God to living1 prophets for living2 men. In everything3that is life is the 1law written. You fi2nd it in the grass, 3in the tree, in the 1river, in the mounta2in, in the birds of 3heaven, in the fishe1s of the sea; but se2ek it chiefly in 3yourselves. 1The first petition t0hat we are to make t2o Almighty God is 3for a good conscienc1e, the next for heal2th of mind, and then3of body. 1Unless we place our 0religion and our tre2asure in the same 3thing, religion will1 always be sacrifice2d. 3 'Release is in the0 eye.'... 'The seed-2blossoms (spiritual 3embryo) of the human1 body must be concen2trated upward in the3empty space (the hea1venly heart between 2the eyes).' 3 Immortality is con1tained in this sente2nce and also the 3overcoming of the wo1rld is contained in 2it. This is the 3common goal of all r1eligions. 2An individual should0 hold an awareness o2f God and His love 3all the time. He sh1ould not separate hi2s consciousness from3the Divine while he 1journeys on the way,2 nor when he lies 3down nor when he ris1es up. 2A good life is the o0nly religion. 2All religions must b0e tolerated...for...2every man must get 3to heaven in his own1 way. 2O you who are seekin0g God, 2 know this: 1Know that we are the1 mirror of God, 2 the Absolute Truth1. 2He prayeth best who 0loveth best 2All things, both gre1at and small. 2Practice in life wha0tever you pray for, 2and God will give it1 to you more abundan2tly. 3To worship rightly i0s to love each other2, 3each smile a hymn, e1ach kindly deed a pr2ayer. 3Pray as if everythin0g depended on God, 2and work as if every1thing depended upon 2man. 3O praise His goodnes0s with songs for tha2nksgiving, 3and meditate in sile1nce on the wonders o2f His love; 3let thy heart overfl1ow with gratitude an2d acknowledgment, 3let the language of 1thy lips speak prais2e and adoration, 3let the actions of t1hy life show thy lov2e to His law. 3Sacrifice is the tra0nsmutation of force.2Cosmic archetypes sh1ape this force into 2spiritual energy, 3which can then reapp1ear on the planes of2 form as an entirely3different type of fo1rce to that as which2 it started. 3To him who hearkens 0to the gods, the god2s give ear. 3In all thou dost fir0st let thy Prayers a2scend, 3And to the Gods thy 1Labours first commen2d, 3From them implore Su1ccess, and hope a pr2osperous End. 3God is not to be wor0shipped with sacrifi2ces and blood; for 3what pleasure can He1 have in the slaught2er of the innocent? 3but rather with a pu1re mind, a good and 2honest purpose. 3Temples are not to b1e built for Him with2 stones piled high; 3God is to be consecr1ated in the breast o2f each. 3If we traverse the w0orld, it is possible2 to find cities 3without walls, witho1ut letters, without 2kings, without 3wealth, without coin1, without schools an2d theatres; but a 3city without a templ1e, or that practiset2h not worship, 3prayer, and the like1, no one ever saw. 2It isn't anything ma0nly to go to the mou2ntains. A man ought3to be able to live i1n the city among peo2ple while being so 3occupied with God th1at not for a single 2moment is he empty 3of Him. 1For those who have b0een lost in the cont2emplation of the 3 divine immanence, 1God reveals his tran2scendence. 3And for those who ar1e lost in the contem2plation of God's 3 transcendence, God1 reveals his immanen2ce. 3Even as the needle t0hat directs the hour2, 3(Touched with the lo1adstone) by the secr2et power 3Of hidden Nature, po1ints upon the pole; 2Even so the wavering1 powers of my soul, 2Touched by the virtu1e of Thy spirit, fle2e 3From what is earth, 1and point alone to T2hee. 3If I am right, Thy g0race impart, 2 Still in the right1 to stay; 2If I am wrong, O tea1ch my heart 2 To find that bette1r way! 2Prayer is the soul's0 sincere desire, 2 Uttered or unexpre1ssed, 2The motion of a hidd1en fire 2 That trembles in t1he breast. 2Such love of all our0 virtues is the gem;2 We bring with us t1he immortal seed at 2birth; 3Of heaven it is, and1 heavenly; woe to th2em 3 Who make it wholly1 earthly and of eart2h! 3I ask and wish not t0o appear 2 More beauteous, ri1ch or gay: 2Lord, make me wiser 1every year, 2 And better every d1ay. 2As down in the sunle0ss retreats of the o2cean 3 Sweet flowers are 1springing no mortal 2can see, 3So deep in my soul t1he still prayer of d2evotion 3 Unheard by the wor1ld, rises silent to 2Thee. 3Father! no prophet'0s laws I seek,- 2 Thy laws in Nature1's works appear;- 2I own myself corrupt1 and weak, 2 Yet will I pray, f1or thou wilt hear. 2Speak to Him thou fo0r He hears, 2 and spirit with sp1irit can meet- 2Closer is He than br1eathing, 2 and nearer than ha1nds and feet. 2Kneeling in prayer, 0and not ashamed to p2ray, 3 The tumult of the 1time disconsolate 2To inarticulate murm1urs dies away, 2 While the eternal 1ages watch and wait.2Religion is a great 0force - the only rea2l motive force in 3the world; but you m1ust get a man throug2h his own religion, 3not through yours. 1We dance around in a0 ring and suppose, 2But the Secret sits 1in the middle and kn2ows. 3Let my imperfect sel0f advance towards th2y perfect being Lord3as the crescent rise1s to fullness. 2O God, give us seren0ity to accept what c2annot be changed; 3courage to change wh1at should be changed2, 3and wisdom to distin1guish one from the o2ther. 3