In my thought there is only one universal religion, whose varied paths are but the fingers of the loving hand of the Supreme Being.

The seasons shall tire and the years grow old, ere they exhaust these words: “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.

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

I have met the soul walking upon my path.

I know faces, because I look through the fabric my own eye weaves, and behold the reality beneath.

Power lies in reason, resolution, and truth. No matter how long the tyrant endures, he will be the loser at the end.

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.’