You talk when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts;And when you can no longer dwell in the solitude of your heart you live in your lips, and sound is a diversion and a pastime.And in much of your talking, thinking is half murdered.

A sense of humour is a sense of proportion.

Your hearts know in silence the secrets of the days and the nights.But your ears thirst for the sound of your heart's knowledge.You would know in words that which you have always known in thought.You would touch with your fingers the naked body of your dreams.

You cannot judge any man beyond your knowledge of him, and how small is your knowledge.

Behind the veil of each night, there is a smiling dawn.

I too am my own forerunner, though I sit in the shadows of my trees and seem motionless.