The earth paints a portrait of the sun at dawn with sunflowers in bloom. Unhappy with the portrait, she erases it and paints it again and again.

Inspiration follows aspiration.

Memory, the priestess, kills the present and offers its heart to the shrine of the dead past.

That I exist is a perpetual surprise which is life.

When I stand before thee at the day's end, thou shalt see my scars and know that I had my wounds and also my healing.

The earth paints a portrait of the sun at dawn with sunflowers in bloom. Unhappy with the portrait, she erases it and paints it again and again.

Whenever our life is stirred by truth, it expresses energy and comes to be filled, as it were, with a creative ardor. This consciousness of the creative urge is evidence of the force of truth on our mind.