Some find Lebanese poet Kahlil Gibran’s poetry preachy and moralizing, but I find it plenty enlightening—it’s hard to object to the melodic, cosmic of mysticism of a line like ‘That which sings and contemplates in you is still dwelling within the bounds of that first moment which scattered the stars into space.’

I would not have thee believe in what I say nor trust in what I do — for my words are naught but thy own thoughts in sound and my deeds thy own hopes in action.

They say if one understands himself, he understands all people. But I say to you, when one loves people, he learns something about himself.

I am the infinite sea, and all worlds are but grains of sand upon my shore.

I have learned that the place where I subsist is all places, and the space I occupy is all intervals.

Does the song of the sea end at the shore or in the hearts of those who listen to it?

Cast aside those who liken godliness to whimsy and who try to combine their greed for wealth with their desire for a happy afterlife.