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.

Love is quivering happiness.

It is not a garment I cast off this day, but a skin that I tear with my own hands.

Your clothes conceal much of your beauty, yet they hide not the unbeautiful.

Enthusiasm is a volcano on whose top never grows the grass of hesitation.

A traveller I am, and a navigator, and everyday I discover a new region within my soul.

And you would accept the seasons of your heart just as you have always accepted that seasons pass over your fields and you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.