Hate is a dead thing. Who of you would be a tomb?

Tears have cleansed my eyes, and errors have taught me the language of the hearts.

And only the sure of foot can give a hand to him who stumbles.

All you have shall some day be given. Therefore give now, that the season of giving may be yours and not your inheritors.

Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.

Jesus was not sent here to teach the people to build magnificent churches and temples amidst the cold wretched huts and dismal hovels. He came to make the human heart a temple, and the soul an altar, and the mind a priest.

Miserable is the man who loves a woman and takes her for his wife, pouring at her feet the sweat of his skin and the blood of his body and the life of his heart, and placing her in the hands of the fruit of his toil and the revenue of his diligence; for when he slowly wakes up, he finds that the heart that he endeavored to buy is given away freely and in sincerity to another man for the enjoyment of its hidden secrets and deepest love.