My friends: Music is the language of spirits. Its melody is like the frolicsome breeze that makes the strings quiver with love. When the gentle fingers of Music knock at the door of our feelings, they awaken memories that have long lain hidden in the depths of the Past. The sad strains of Music bring us mournful recollections; and her quiet strains bring us joyful memories. The sound of strings makes us weep at the departure of a dear one, or makes us smile at the peace God has bestowed upon us.

Your daily life is your temple and your religion. When you enter into it take with you your all.

It is only when you are pursued that you become swift.

Who can separate his faith from his actions, or his belief from his occupations?

Extreme torture is mute, and so we sat silent, petrified, like columns of marble buried under the sand of an earthquake. Neither wished to listen to the other because our heart-threads had become weak and even breathing would have broken them.

Where can I find a man governed by reason instead of habits and urges?

He who seeks ecstasy in love should not complain of suffering.