The Prophet: "You talk when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts."

by Kahlil Gibran

And ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.

Much of your pain is self-chosen. It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.

To judge you by your failures is to cast blame upon the seasons for their inconsistency. Ay, you are like an ocean, And though heavy-grounded ships await the tide upon your shores, yet, even like an ocean, you cannot hasten your tides. And like the seasons you are also, And though in your winter you deny your spring,