Kahlil Gibran

And I have found both freedom of loneliness and the safety from being understood, for those who understand us enslave something in us.

And there were valleys between her heart and mine.

It is not a garment I cast off this day, but a skin that I tear with my own hands.

You are your own forerunner, and the towers you have builded are but the foundation of your giant-self.

My friend, I am not what I seem. Seeming is but a garment I wear⁠—a care-woven garment that protects me from thy questionings and thee from my negligence.

I was a woman who had divorced her soul.

For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.

We are the fields and the ploughmen, the gatherers and the gathered.

The “I” in me, my friend, dwells in the house of silence, and therein it shall remain forever more, unperceived, unapproachable.

For that which has remained unknown to all men for an eon may be disclosed to one man in but a moment.

But let there be spaces in your togetherness,

Countless are the eagles who descend from the upper air to live with moles that they may know the secrets of the earth.

The joy of scaring is a deep and lasting one, and I never tire of it.

And after that all the tasteless fruit of life turned sweet to my mouth, and the scentless blossoms breathed fragrance into my nostrils.

For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.

Daily from your birth she has slain you and you know it not.

But the seventh self remained watching and gazing at nothingness, which is behind all things.

In truth man prays to his deeper longing, that it may rise and fulfil the sum of his desires.

They come through you but not from you,

Fan on, fan on, stupids. You fan but the fire that consumes you.