I would be the least among men with dreams and the desire to fulfill them, rather than the greatest with no dreams and no desires. - Kahlil Gibran

He stood up and looked at me even as the seasons might look down upon the field, and He smiled. And He said again: "All men love you for themselves. I love you for yourself." And then He walked away. But no other man ever walked the way He walked. Was it a breath born in my garden that moved to the east? Or was it a storm that would shake all things to their foundations? I knew not, but on that day the sunset of His eyes slew the dragon in me, and I became a woman, I became Miriam, Miriam of Mijdel.

"And a woman spoke, saying, "Tell us of Pain."
And he said: Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.
Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.
And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy;
And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields.
And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.
Much of your pain is self-chosen.
It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.
Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquillity:
For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen,
And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay which the
Potter has moistened with His own sacred tears."

ما أكثر الذين يتوهمون أنهم يفهموننا لأنهم وجدوا في بعض مظاهرنا شيئا , شبيها بما أختبروه مرّة في حياتهم .
وليتهم يكتفون بادعائهم معرفة أسرارنا تلك الأسرار التي نحن ذواتنا لا ندركها - ولكنهم يصموننا بعلامات وأرقام ثم يضعوننا على رف من رفوف أفكارهم واعتقاداتهم مثلما يفعل الصيدلي بقناني الأدوية والمساحيق