Yes, all my illusions will burn into illumination of joy, and all my desires ripen into fruits of love.
Compliments win friends, honesty loses them.
Days are coloured bubbles that float upon the surface of fathomless nights.
Time is a wealth of change, but the clock in its parody makes it mere change and no wealth.
The hours trip rapidly away, hiding their dreams in their skirts.
The higher nature in man always seeks for something which transcends itself and yet is its deepest truth; which claims all its sacrifice, yet makes this sacrifice its own recompense. This is man's dharma, man's religion, and man's self is the vessel.