إن ما تشعرون به من الألم هو انكسار القشرة التي تغلف إدراككم . وكما أن القشرة الصلدة التي تحجب الثمرة يجب أن تتحطم حتى يبرز قلبها من ظلمة الأرض إلى نو… - Kahlil Gibran

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إن ما تشعرون به من الألم هو انكسار القشرة التي تغلف إدراككم . وكما أن القشرة الصلدة التي تحجب الثمرة يجب أن تتحطم حتى يبرز قلبها من ظلمة الأرض إلى نور الشمس .. هكذا أنتم أيضاً .. يجب أن تحطم الآلام قشوركم قبل أن تعرفوا معنى الحياة .. لأنكم لو استطعتم أن تعيروا عجائب حياتكم اليومية حقها من التأمل والدهشة لما كنتم ترون ألامكم أقل غرابة من أفراحكم .. أنتم مخيرون في الكثير من آلامكم .. وهذا الكثير من آلامكم هو الجرعة الشديدة المرارة التي بواسطتها يَشفي الطبيب الحكيم الساهر في أعماقكم أسقام نفوسكم البشرية ..

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About Kahlil Gibran

Gibran Khalil Gibran (6 January 1883 – 10 April 1931), usually referred to in English as Kahlil Gibran, was a Lebanese-American writer, poet and visual artist.

Biography information from Wikiquote

Also Known As

Native Name: جُبْران خَليل جُبْران
Alternative Names: Jubrān Khalīl Jubrān Jubrān, Jubrān Khalīl Jubran, Jubran Khalil K. Gibran Gibran Khalil Gibran Khalil Gibran
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Additional quotes by Kahlil Gibran

No human relation gives one possession in another — every two souls are absolutely different. In friendship or in love, the two side by side raise hands together to find what one cannot reach alone.

Pity the nation that is full of beliefs and empty of religion.
Pity the nation that wears a cloth it does not weave
and eats a bread it does not harvest.

Pity the nation that acclaims the bully as hero,
and that deems the glittering conqueror bountiful.

Pity a nation that despises a passion in its dream,
yet submits in its awakening.

Pity the nation that raises not its voice
save when it walks in a funeral,
boasts not except among its ruins,
and will rebel not save when its neck is laid
between the sword and the block.

Pity the nation whose statesman is a fox,
whose philosopher is a juggler,
and whose art is the art of patching and mimicking

Pity the nation that welcomes its new ruler with trumpeting,
and farewells him with hooting,
only to welcome another with trumpeting again.

Pity the nation whose sages are dumb with years
and whose strongmen are yet in the cradle.

Pity the nation divided into fragments,
each fragment deeming itself a nation.

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