No lower can a man descend than to interpret his dreams into gold and silver.

Let there be spaces in your togetherness...just as strings of a lute dance alone though they quiver with the same music.

For in truth it is life that gives unto life-while you, who deem yourself a giver, are but a witness.

In every winter's heart there is a quivering spring, and behind the veil of each night there is a shining dawn.

He who listens to truth is not less than he who utters truth.

Yet the timeless in you is aware of life's timelessness, And knows that yesterday is but today's memory and tomorrow is today's dream. And that that which sings and contemplates in you is still dwelling within the bounds of that first moment which scattered the stars into space. Who among you does not feel that his power to love is boundless? And yet who does not feel that very love, though boundless, encompassed within the centre of his being, and moving not from love thought to love thought, nor from love deeds to other love deeds? And is not time even as love is, undivided and paceless?

Coming generations will learn equality from poverty, and love from woes.