忌妒我的人无意间赞颂了我。 你是你母亲睡眠里的一个长久的梦，梦醒后，便生下了你。人类的起源就在母亲的渴望里。我的父母想有一个孩子，于是就生下我。我想要父母，于是生下了黑夜和海洋。 有的儿女让我们感到不枉此生，有的儿女则让我们留下终生遗憾。 当黑夜降临时，你也陷入阴郁的深渊，躺下吧，尽情地阴郁。_ 当早晨来临时，你已还感到阴郁，站起来吧，尽情地对白昼说：“我仍然阴郁。” 虚伪地面对黑夜和白昼是多么愚蠢啊。_他俩都会嘲笑你的。 雾里山岳不是丘陵，雨中橡树也不是垂柳。 看这个似是而非的悖论：深和高之间的距离要比中间到两极的距离短。 当我如同一面明镜，站在你的面前，你凝视着我，看到了自己的形象。然后你说：“我爱你。” 但其实你爱的只是我中的你。 当你享受邻里之乐时，它便不再是一种美德了。 爱如果不经常涌溢出来，往往就会死掉。 你无法同时拥有青春和关于青春的知识； 因为青春忙于生计，没有余暇去求知；而知识忙于寻求自我，无法享受生活； 你或许坐在窗边，观看过往行人。 看着看着，你也许能看见一个尼姑从右边走来，一个妓女从左边走来。_ 你也许会天真地说：“这个多么高洁，那个多么卑贱。” 如果你闭目静听，就会听到天空中有个声音在低语：“一个在祈祷中寻求我，另一个在痛苦中寻求我。 在两个人的灵魂深处，都有一座供奉我的心灵的殿堂。” 每隔一百年，拿撒勒的耶稣都会和基督徒的耶稣在黎巴嫩山中的花园会晤。 他们促膝长谈。每次，当拿撒勒的耶稣向基督徒的耶稣道别时都会说：“我的朋友，我担心我们俩永远、永远无法达成共识。” 主啊！请喂养那些穷奢极欲的人吧！ 伟大的人有两颗心；一颗心流血，另一颗心宽容。 如果有人说谎，既没有伤害你，也没有伤害他人，为何不在你心里说，他堆放事实的房间太小，容纳不下他的妄念和幻想，他应该远离它，去寻找更宽阔的空间？ 每扇关起的门背后，都有一个七印密封的秘密。 等待是时间的蹄子。 如果烦恼和忧愁是你屋舍东墙上新开的一扇窗户，你该如何是好？ 与你一同欢笑的人，你可能会将他忘掉。但和你一同痛哭的人，却是你永远无法忘怀的。 盐里面一定有某种异常神圣之物。它在我们的眼泪里，也在大海里。 我们的神在他崇高而且慈悲的意愿中，将我们的—露珠和眼泪—全部喝下去。 你不过是自己大我的一块儿碎片，不过是一张寻觅面包的嘴，也是一只为了干渴的嘴而盲目举杯的手。第六章 如果你能超越种族、国家和自我之上，哪怕只有一腕尺的高度，你也真的像神一样了。 如果我是你，就不会在低潮时抱怨大海。_ 船是一条好船，船长也善于操帆掌舵；唯一不合适的是你的胃。 如果你能端坐云头，你就看不见国与国的边界，也看不见庄园之间的界石。 遗憾的是你无法端坐云头。 七个世纪以前，有七只白鸽从幽谷飞上雪峰。在七个看到鸽子飞翔的人中，有一个说：“我看到第七只鸽子的翅膀上有一个黑点。” 如今山谷中的人们都在讲述飞上雪山顶峰的七只黑鸽。 秋天，我收集自己所有的忧伤，将它们埋在花园深处。_ 四月到来，春天来和大地成婚，在我的花园里又绽放出与众花不同的美丽花朵。 邻人们纷纷前来欣赏花季盛景，他们对我说：“当秋天再度来临，在播种的季节里，可否分赠些美丽的花种，让我们的花园里也花枝招展？” 我向人伸出空手而一无所获，诚然十分悲哀_； 但是我伸出一只满握的手，如若发现无人领受，那才是彻底的绝望呢。_ 我渴望来生，因为在那里我能获得自己的未作之诗和未绘之画。 艺术是从自然迈向无穷的一步。 一件艺术作品是从云雾中塑造出的一个意象。 哪怕是一双编织荆冠的手，也胜过一双无所事事的手。 我们最圣洁的泪水从不追寻我们的眼睛。 每个人都是每个曾经在世的君王和奴隶的子孙。 如果耶稣的曾祖知道自己的身体里隐藏着什么，他怎能不对自己肃然起敬呢？ 犹大之母对儿子的爱会比玛利亚对耶稣的爱少吗？ 我们的兄弟耶稣还有三个奇迹没有被载入经书： 第一，他和你我一样是人，第二，他有幽默感，第三，他知道自己虽然被征服，却仍是一个征服者。 那个钉在十字架上的人啊，你被钉在了我的心上，刺穿你双手的钉子，也穿透了我的心墙。_ 明天，当一个异乡人从髑髅地走过时，他不会知道这里曾有两个人流过血。 他会以为那只是一个人的血。 你或许听说过那座福山。 它是我们的世界之巅。_ 一旦你攀上它的顶峰，就只会有一个愿望， 走下最深的沟谷，与那儿的山民生活在一起。_ 这便是这座山之所以被称为福山的理由。 我用言语禁锢的每一种思想，必须用我的行动使之获释。 I_am_forever_walking_upon_these_shores,betwixt_the_sand_and_the_foam. The_high_tide_will_erase_my_footprints,_and_the_wind_will_blow_away_the_foam. But_the_sea_and_the_shore_will_remain_forever. Once_I_filled_my_hand_with_mist. Then_I_opened_it_and_looked,_the_mist_was_a_worm. And_I_closed_and_opened_my_hand_again,_and_behold_there_was_a_bird. And_again_I_closed_and_opened_my_hand,_and_in_its_hollow_stood_a_man_with_a_sad_face,_turned_upward. And_again_I_closed_my_hand,_and_when_I_opened_it_there_was_naught_but_mist. But_I_heard_a_song_of_exceeding_sweetness. It_was_but_yesterday_I_thought_myself_a_fragment_quivering_without_rhythm_in_the_sphere_of_life. Now_I_know_that_I_am_the_sphere,_and_all_life_in_rhythmic_fragments_moves_within_me. They_say_to_me_in_their_awakening,_“You_and_the_world_you_live_in_are_but_a_grain_of_sand_upon_the_infinite_shore_of_an_infinite_sea.” And_in_my_dream_I_say_to_them,_“I_am_the_infinite_sea,_and_all_worlds_are_but_grains_of_sand_upon_my_shore.” Only_once_have_I_been_made_mute._It_was_when_a_man_asked_me,_“Who_are_you?” The_first_thought_of_God_was_an_angel. The_first_word_of_God_was_a_man. We_were_fluttering,_wandering,_longing_creatures_a_thousand_thousand_years_before_the_sea_and_the_wind_in_the_forest_gave_us_words. Now_how_can_we_express_the_ancient_of_days_in_us_with_only_the_sounds_of_our_yesterdays? The_Sphinx_spoke_only_once,_and_the_Sphinx_said,_“A_grain_of_sand_is_a_desert,_and_a_desert_is_a_grain_of_sand;_and_now_let_us_all_be_silent_again.” I_heard_the_Sphinx,_but_I_did_not_understand. Long_did_I_lie_in_the_dust_of_Egypt,_silent_and_unaware_of_the_seasons. Then_the_sun_gave_me_birth,_and_I_rose_and_walked_upon_the_banks_of_the_Nile, Singing_with_the_days_and_dreaming_with_the_nights. And_now_the_sun_threads_upon_me_with_a_thousand_feet_that_I_may_lie_again_in_the_dust_of_Egypt. But_behold_a_marvel_and_a_riddle! The_very_sun_that_gathered_me_cannot_scatter_me. Still_erect_am_I,_and_sure_of_foot_do_I_walk_upon_the_banks_of_the_Nile. Remembrance_is_a_form_of_meeting. Forgetfulness_is_a_form_of_freedom.第七章 We_measure_time_according_to_the_movement_of_countless_suns;_and_they_measure_time_by_little_machines_in_their_little_pockets. Now_tell_me,_how_could_we_ever_meet_at_the_same_place_and_the_same_time? Space_is_not_space_between_the_earth_and_the_sun_to_one_who_looks_down_from_the_windows_of_the_Milky_Way. Humanity_is_a_river_of_light_running_from_the_exeternity_to_eternity. Do_not_the_spirits_who_dwell_in_the_ether_envy_man_his_pain? On_my_way_to_the_Holy_City_I_met_another_pilgrim_and_I_asked_him,_“Is_this_indeed_the_way_to_the_Holy_City?” And_he_said,_“Follow_me,_and_you_will_reach_the_Holy_City_in_a_day_and_a_night.” And_I_followed_him._And_we_walked_many_days_and_many_nights,_yet_we_did_not_reach_the_Holy_City. And_what_was_to_my_surprise_he_became_angry_with_me_because_he_had_misled_me. Make_me,_oh,_God,_the_prey_of_the_lion,_ere_you_make_the_rabbit_my_prey. One_may_not_reach_the_dawn_save_by_the_path_of_the_night. My_house_says_to_me,_“Do_not_leave_me,_for_here_dwells_your_past.” And_the_road_says_to_me,“Come_and_follow_me,_for_I_am_your_future.” And_I_say_to_both_my_house_and_the_road,_“I_have_no_past,_nor_have_I_a_future._If_I_stay_here,_there_is_a_going_in_my_staying;_and_if_I_go_there_is_a_staying_in_my_going._Only_love_and_death_will_change_all_things.” How_can_I_lose_faith_in_the_justice_of_life,_when_the_dreams_of_those_who_sleep_upon_feathers_are_not_more_beautiful_than_the_dreams_of_those_who_sleep_upon_the_earth? Strange,_the_desire_for_certain_pleasures_is_a_part_of_my_pain. Seven_times_have_I_despised_my_soul: The_first_time_when_I_saw_her_being_meek_that_she_might_attain_height. The_second_time_when_I_saw_her_limping_before_the_crippled. The_third_time_when_she_was_given_to_choose_between_the_hard_and_the_easy,_and_she_chose_the_easy. The_fourth_time_when_she_committed_a_wrong,_and_comforted_herself_that_others_also_commit_wrong. The_fifth_time_when_she_forbore_for_weakness,_and_attributed_her_patience_to_strength. The_sixth_time_when_she_despised_the_ugliness_of_a_face,_and_knew_not_that_it_was_one_of_her_own_masks. And_the_seventh_time_when_she_sang_a_song_of_praise,_and_deemed_it_a_virtue. I_am_ignorant_of_absolute_truth._But_I_am_humble_before_my_ignorance_and_therein_lies_my_honor_and_my_reward. There_is_a_space_between_man’s_imagination_and_man’s_attainment_that_may_only_be_traversed_by_his_longing. Paradise_is_there,_behind_that_door,_in_the_next_room;_but_I_have_lost_the_key. Perhaps_I_have_only_mislaid_it.第八章 You_are_blind_and_I_am_deaf_and_dumb,_so_let_us_touch_hands_and_understand. The__significance_of_man_is_not_in_what_he_attains,_but_rather_in_what_he_longs_to_attain. Some_of_us_are_like_ink_and_some_are_like_paper. And_if_it_were_not_for_the_blackness_of_some_of_us,_some_of_us_would_be_dumb; And_if_it_were_not_for_the_whiteness_of_some_of_us,_some_of_us_would_be_blind. Give_me_an_ear_and_I_will_give_you_a_voice. Our_mind_is_a_sponge;_our_heart_is_a_stream._Is_it_not_strange_that_most_of_us_choose_sucking_rather_than_running? When_you_long_for_blessings_that_you_may_not_name,_and_when_you_grieve_knowing_not_the_cause,_then_indeed_you_are_growing_with_all_things_that_grow,_and_rising_toward_your_greater_self. When_one_is_drunk_with_a_vision,_he_deems_his_faint_expression_of_it_the_very_wine. You_drink_wine_that_you_may_be_intoxicated;_and_I_drink_that_it_may_sober_me_from_that_other_wine. When_my_cup_is_empty_I_resign_myself_to_its_emptiness;_but_when_it_is_half_full_I_resent_its_halffullness. The_reality_of_the_other_person_is_not_in_what_he_reveals_to_you,_but_in_what_he_cannot_reveal_to_you._ Therefore,_if_you_would_understand_him,_listen_not_to_what_he_says_but_rather_to_what_he_does_not_say. Half_of_what_I_say_is_meaningless;_but_I_say_it_so_that_the_other_half_may_reach_you. A_sense_of_humour_is_a_sense_of_proportion. My_loneliness_was_born_when_men_praised_my_talkative_faults_and_blamed_my_silent_virtues. When_life_does_not_find_a_singer_to_sing_her_heart,_she_produces_a_philosopher_to_speak_her__mind. A_truth_is_to_be_known_always,_to_be_uttered_sometimes. The_real_in_us_is_silent;_the_acquired_is_talkative. The_voice_of_life_in_me_cannot_reach_the_ear_of_life_in_you;_but_let_us_talk_that_we_may_not_feel_lonely. When_two_women_talk_they_say_nothing;_when_one_woman_speaks_she_reveals_all_of_life. Frogs_may_bellow_louder_than_bulls,_but_they_cannot_drag_the_plough_in_the_field,_not_turn_the_wheel_of_the_wine_press,_and_of_their_skins_you_cannot_make_shoes. Only_the_dumb_envies_the_talkative. If_winter_should_say，“Spring_is_in_my_heart”,_who_would_believe_winter? Every_seed_is_a_longing. Should_you_really_open_your_eyes_and_see,_you_would_behold_your_image_in_all_images._And_should_you_open_your_ears_and_listen,_you_would_hear_your_own_voice_in_all_voices. It_takes_two_of_us_to_discover_truth:_one_to_utter_it_and_one_to_understand_it. Though_the_wave_of_words_is_forever_upon_us,_yet_our_depth_is_forever_silent. Many_a_doctrine_is_like_a_window_pane._We_see_truth_through_it_but_it_divides_us_from_truth. Now_let_us_play_hide_and_seek._Should_you_hide_in_my_heart_it_would_not_be_difficult_to_find_you._ But_should_you_hide_behind_your_own_shell,_then_it_would_be_useless_for_anyone_to_seek_you._ A_woman_may_veil_her_face_with_a_smile. How_noble_is_the_sad_heart_who_would_sing_a_joyous_song_with_joyous_hearts. He_who_would_understand_a_woman,_or_dissect_genius,_or_solve_the_mystery_of_silence_is_the_very_man_who_would_wake_from_a_beautiful_dream_to_sit_at_a_breakfast_table. I_would_walk_with_all_those_who_walk. I_would_not_stand_still_to_watch_the_procession_passing_by. You_owe_more_than_gold_to_him_who_serves_you._Give_him_of_your_heart_or_serve_him. Nay,we_have_not_lived_in_vain._Have_they_not_built_towers_of_our_bones? Let_us_not_be_particular_and_sectional._The_poet’mind_and_the_scorpion’s_tail_rise_in_glory_from_the_same_earth._Every_dragon_gives_birth_to_a_St._George_who_slays_it._ Trees_are_poems_that_the_earth_writes_upon_the_sky._We_fell_them_down_and_turn_them_into_paper_that_we_may_record_our_emptiness. Should_you_care_to_write(and_only_the_saints_know_why_you_should),_you_must_have_knowledge_and_art_and_music—the_knowledge_of_the_music_of_words,_the_art_of_being_artless,_and_the_magic_of_loving_your_readers. They_dip_their_pens_in_our_hearts_and_think_they_are_inspired. Should_a_tree_write_its_autobiography_it_would_not_be_unlike_the_history_of_a_race. If_I_were_to_choose_between_the_power_of_writing_a_poem_and_the_ecstasy_of_a_poem_unwritten,_I_would_choose_the_ecstasy._It_is_better_poetry. But_you_and_all_my_neighbors_agree_that_I_always_choose_badly. Poetry_is_not_an_opinion_expressed._It_is_a_song_that_rises_from_a_bleeding_wound_or_a_smiling_mouth. Words_are_timeless._You_should_utter_them_or_write_them_with_a_knowledge_of_their_timelessness. A_poet_is_a_dethroned_king_sitting_among_the_ashes_of_his_palace_trying_to_fashion_an_image_out_of_the_ashes. Poetry_is_a_deal_of_joy_and_pain_and_wonder,_with_a_dash_of_the_dictionary. In_vain_shall_a_poet_seek_the_mother_of_the_songs_of_his_heart. Once_I_said_to_a_poet,_“We_shall_not_know_your_worth_until_you_die.” And_he_answered_saying,_“Yes,_death_is_always_the_revealer._And_if_indeed_you_would_know_my_worth_it_is_that_I_have_more_in_my_heart_than_upon_my_tongue,and_more_in_my_desire_than_in_my_hand.” If_you_sing_of_beauty_though_alone_in_the_heart_of_the_desert_you_will_have_an_audience. Poetry_is_wisdom_that_enchants_the_heart. Wisdom_is_poetry_that_sings_in_the_mind. If_we_could_enchant_man’s_heart_and_at_the_same_time_sing_in_his_mind,_then_in_truth_he_would_live_in_the_shadow_of_God. Inspiration_will_always_sing;_inspiration_will_never_explain. We_often_sing_lullabies_to_our_children_that_we_ourselves_may_sleep. All_our_words_are_but_crumbs_that_fall_down_from_the_feast_of_the_mind. Thinking_is_always_the_stumbling_stone_to_poetry. A_great_singer_is_he_who_sings_our_silences. How_can_you_sing_if_your_mouth_is_filled_with_food? How_shall_your_hand_be_raised_in_blessing_if_it_is_filled_with_gold? They_say_the_nightingale_pierces_his_bosom_with_a_thorn_when_he_sings_his_love_song. So_do_we_all._How_else_should_we_sing? Genius_is_but_a_robin’s_song_at_the_beginning_of_a_slow_spring. Even_the_most_winged_spirit_cannot_escape_physical_necessity.第九章 A_madman_is_not_less_a_musician_than_you_or_myself;_only_the_instrument_on_which_he_plays_is_a_little_out_of_tune. The_song_that_lies_silent_in_the_heart_of_a_mother_sings_upon_the_lips_of_her_child. No_longing_remains_unfulfilled. I_have_never_agreed_with_my_other_self_wholly._The_truth_of_the_matter_seems_to_lie_between_us. Your_other_self_is_always_sorry_for_you._But_your_other_self_grows_on_sorrow;_so_all_is_well. There_is_no_struggle_of_soul_and_body_save_in_the_minds_of_those_whose_souls_are_asleep_and_whose_bodies_are_out_of_tune. When_you_reach_the_heart_of_life_you_shall_find_beauty_in_all_things,_even_in_the_eyes_that_are_blind_to_beauty. We_live_only_to_discover_beauty._All_else_is_a_form_of_waiting. Sow_a_seed_and_the_earth_will_yield_you_a_flower._Dream_your_dream_to_the_sky_and_it_will_bring_you_your_beloved. The_devil_died_the_very_day_you_were_born. Now_you_do_not_have_to_go_through_hell_to_meet_an_angel. Many_a_woman_borrows_a_man’s_heart;_very_few_could_possess_it. If_you_would_possess_you_must_not_claim. When_a_man’s_hand_touches_the_hand_of_a_woman_they_both_touch_the_heart_of_eternity. Love_is_the_veil_between_lover_and_lover. Every_man_loves_two_women_：the_one_is_the_creation_of_his_imagination,and_the_other_is_not_yet_born. Men_who_do_not_forgive_women_their_little_faults_will_never_enjoy_their_great_virtues. Love_that_does_not_renew_itself_every_day_becomes_a_habit_and_in_turn_a_slavery. Lovers_embrace_that_which_is_between_them_rather_than_each_other. Love_and_doubt_have_never_been_on_speaking_terms. Love_is_a_word_of_light,_written_by_a_hand_of_light,_upon_a_page_of_light. Friendship_is_always_a_sweet_responsibility,_never_an_opportunity. If_you_do_not_understand_your_friend_under_all_conditions_you_will_never_understand_him. Your_most_radiant_garment_is_of_the_other_person’s_weaving; Your_most_savory_meal_is_that_which_you_eat_at_the_other_person’s_table; Your_most_comfortable_bed_is_in_the_other_person’s_house. Now_tell_me,_how_can_you_separate_yourself_from_the_other_person? Your_mind_and_my_heart_will_never_agree_until_your_mind_ceases_to_live_in_numbers_and_my_heart_in_the_mist. We_shall_never_understand_one_another_until_we_reduce_the_language_to_seven_words. How_shall_my_heart_be_unsealed_unless_it_be_broken? Only_great_sorrow_or_great_joy_can_reveal_your_truth. If_you_would_be_revealed_you_must_either_dance_naked_in_the_sun,_or_carry_your_cross. Should_nature_heed_what_we_say_of_contentment_no_river_would_seek_the_sea,_and_no_winter_would_turn_to_spring._Should_she_heed_all_we_say_of_thrift,_how_many_of_us_would_be_breathing_this_air? You_see_but_your_shadow_when_you_turn_your_back_to_the_sun._ You_are_free_before_the_sun_of_the_day,_and_free_before_the_stars_of_the_night. And_you_are_free_when_there_is_no_sun_and_no_moon_and_no_star. You_are_even_free_when_you_close_your_eyes_upon_all_there_is. But_you_are_a_slave_to_him_whom_you_love_because_you_love_him. And_a_slave_to_him_who_loves_you_because_he_loves_you. We_are_all_beggars_at_the_gate_of_the_temple,_and_each_one_of_us_receives_his_share_of_the_bounty_of_the_King_when_he_enters_the_temple,_and_when_he_goes_out. But_we_are_all_jealous_of_one_another,_which_is_another_way_of_belittling_the_King. You_cannot_consume_beyond_your_appetite._The_other_half_of_the_loaf_belongs_to_the_other_person,_and_there_should_remain_a_little_bread_for_the_chance_guest. If_it_were_not_for_your_guests_all_houses_would_be_graves. Said_a_gracious_wolf_to_a_simple_sheep,_“Will_you_not_honor_our_house_with_a_visit?” And_the_sheep_answered,_“We_would_have_been_honored_to_visit_your_house_if_it_were_not_in_your_stomach.” I_stopped_my_guest_on_the_threshold_and_said,_“Nay,_wipe_not_your_feet_as_you_enter,_but_as_you_go_out.” Generosity_is_not_in_giving_me_that_which_I_need_more_than_you_do,_but_it_is_in_giving_me_that_which_you_need_more_than_I_do. You_are_indeed_charitable_when_you_give,_and_while_giving,_turn_your_face_away_so_that_you_may_not_see_the_shyness_of_the_receiver. The_difference_between_the_richest_man_and_the_poorest_is_but_a_day_of_hunger_and_an_hour_of_thirst. We_often_borrow_from_our_tomorrows_to_pay_our_debts_to_our_yesterdays. I_am_too_visited_by_angels_and_devils,_but_I_get_rid_of_them. When_it_is_an_angel_I_pray_an_old_prayer,_and_he_is_bored; When_it_is_a_devil_I_commit_an_old_sin,_and_he_passes_me_by. After_all_this_is_not_a_bad_prison;_but_I_do_not_like_this_wall_between_my_cell_and_the_next_prisoner’s_cell; Yet_I_assure_you_that_I_do_not_wish_to_reproach_the_warder_or_the_Builder_of_the_prison. Those_who_give_you_a_serpent_when_you_ask_for_a_fish,_may_have_nothing_but_serpents_to_give._It_is_then_generosity_on_their_part. Trickery_succeeds_sometimes,_but_it_always_commits_suicide. You_are_truly_a_forgiver_when_you_forgive_murderers_who_never_spill_blood,_thieves_who_never_steal,_and_liars_who_utter_no_falsehood. He_who_can_put_his_finger_upon_that_which_divides_good_from_evil_is_he_who_can_touch_the_very_hem_of_the_garment_of_God. If_your_heart_is_a_volcano_how_shall_you_expect_flowers_to_bloom_in_your_hands? A_strange_form_of_selfindulgence!_There_are_times_when_I_would_be_wronged_and_cheated,_that_I_may_laugh_at_the_expense_of_those_who_think_I_do_not_know_I_am_being_wronged_and_cheated. What_shall_I_say_of_him_who_is_the_pursuer_playing_the_part_of_the_pursued? Let_him_who_wipes_his_soiled_hands_with_your_garment_take_your_garment. He_may_need_it_again;_surely_you_would_not. It_is_a_pity_that_moneychangers_cannot_be_good_gardeners. Please_do_not_whitewash_your_inherent_faults_with_your_acquired_virtues._I_would_have_the_faults;_they_are_like_mine_own._ How_often_have_I_attributed_to_myself_crimes_I_have_never_committed,_so_that_the_other_person_may_feel_comfortable_in_my_presence. Even_the_masks_of_life_are_masks_of_deeper_mystery. You_may_judge_others_only_according_to_your_knowledge_of_yourself. Tell_me_now,_who_among_us_is_guilty_and_who_is_unguilty? The_truly_just_is_he_who_feels_half_guilty_of_your_misdeeds. Only_an_idiot_and_a_genius_break_manmade_laws;_and_they_are_the_nearest_to_the_heart_of_God. It_is_only_when_you_are_pursued_that_you_become_swift. I_have_no_enemies,_O,_God,_but_if_I_am_to_have_an_enemy. Let_his_strength_be_equal_to_mine, That_truth_alone_may_be_the_victor. You_will_be_quite_friendly_with_your_enemy_when_you_both_die. Perhaps_a_man_may_commit_suicide_in_selfdefense. Long_ago_there_lived_a_man_who_was_crucified_for_being_too_loving_and_too_lovable. And_strange_to_relate_I_met_him_thrice_yesterday. The_first_time_he_was_asking_a_policeman_not_to_take_a_prostitute_to_prison;_the_second_time_he_was_drinking_wine_with_an_outcast;_and_the_third_time_he_was_having_a_fistfight_with_a_promoter_inside_a_church. If_all_they_say_of_good_and_evil_were_true,_then_my_life_is_but_one_long_crime. Pity_is_but_half_justice. The_only_one_who_has_been_unjust_to_me_is_the_one_to_whose_brother_I_have_been_unjust. When_you_see_a_man_led_to_prison,_you_say_in_your_heart, “Mayhap_he_is_escaping_from_a_narrower_prison.” And_when_you_see_a_man_drunken,_you_say_in_your_heart, “Mayhap_he_sought_to_escape_from_something_still_more_unbeautiful.” Oftentimes_I_have_hated_in_selfdefense;_but_if_I_were_stronger_I_would_not_have_used_such_a_weapon. How_stupid_is_he_who_would_patch_the_hatred_in_his_eyes_with_the_smile_of_his_lips. Only_those_beneath_me_can_envy_or_hate_me. I_have_never_been_envied_nor_hated;_I_am_above_no_one. Only_those_above_me_can_praise_or_belittle_me. I_have_never_been_praised_nor_belittled;_I_am_below_no_one. Your_saying_to_me,_“I_do_not_understand_you,”_is_praise_beyond_my_worth,_and_an_insult_you_do_not_deserve._How_mean_am_I_when_life_gives_me_gold_and_I_give_you_silver,_and_yet_I_deem_myself_generous.第十章 When_you_reach_the_heart_of_life_you_will_find_yourself_not_higher_than_the_felon,_and_not_lower_than_the_prophet. Strange_that_you_should_pity_the_slowfooted_and_not_the_slowminded, And_the_blindeyed_rather_than_the_blindhearted. It_is_wiser_for_the_lame_not_to_break_his_crutches_upon_the_head_of_his_enemy. How_blind_is_he_who_gives_you_out_of_his_pocket_that_he_may_take_out_of_your_heart! Life_is_a_procession._The_slow_of_foot_finds_it_too_swift_and_he_steps_out; And_the_swift_of_foot_finds_it_too_slow_and_he_too_steps_out. If_there_is_such_a_thing_as_sin_some_of_us_commit_it_backward_following_our_forefathers’_footsteps; And_some_of_us_commit_it_forward_by_overruling_our_children. The_truly_good_is_he_who_is_one_with_all_those_who_are_deemed_bad. We_are_all_prisoners_but_some_of_us_are_in_cells_with_windows_and_some_without. Strange_that_we_all_defend_our_wrongs_with_more_vigor_than_we_do_our_rights. Should_we_all_confess_our_sins_to_one_another_we_would_all_laugh_at_one_another_for_our_lack_of_originality. Should_we_all_reveal_our_virtues_we_would_also_laugh_for_the_same_cause. An__individual_is_above_manmade_laws_until_he_commits_a_crime_against_manmade_conventions;_After_that_he_is_neither_above_anyone_nor_lower_than_anyone. Government_is_an_agreement_between_you_and_myself._You_and_myself_are_often_wrong. Crime_is_either_another_name_of_need_or_an_aspect_of_a_disease. Is_there_a_greater_fault_than_being_conscious_of_the_other_person’s_faults? If_the_other_person_laughs_at_you,_you_can_pity_him;_but_if_you_laugh_at_him_you_may_never_forgive_yourself. If_the_other_person_injures_you,_you_may_forget_the_injury;_but_if_you_injure_him_you_will_always_remember. In_truth_the_other_person_is_your_most_sensitive_self_given_another_body. How_heedless_you_are_when_you_would_have_men_fly_with_your_wings_and_you_cannot_even_give_them_a_feather. Once_a_man_sat_at_my_board_and_ate_my_bread_and_drank_my_wine_and_went_away_laughing_at_me. Then_he_came_again_for_bread_and_wine,_and_I_spurned_him;_and_the_angels_laughed_at_me. Hate_is_a_dead_thing._Who_of_you_would_be_a_tomb? It_is_the_honor_of_the_murdered_that_he_is_not_the_murderer. The_tribune_of_humanity_is_in_its_silent_heart,_never_its_talkative_mind. They_deem_me_mad_because_I_will_not_sell_my_days_for_gold; And_I_deem_them_mad_because_they_think_my_days_have_a_price. They_spread_before_us_their_riches_of_gold_and_silver,_of_ivory_and_ebony,and_we_spread_before_them_our_hearts_and_our_spirits; And_yet_they_deem_themselves_the_hosts_and_us_the_guests. I_would_not_be_the_least_among_men_with_dreams_and_the_desires_to_fulfill_them,_rather_than_the_greatest_with_no_dream_and_no_desire. The_most_pitiful_among_men_is_he_who_turns_his_dreams_into_silver_and_gold. We_are_all_climbing_toward_the_summit_of_our_hearts’_desires._Should_the_other_climber_steal_your_sack_and_your_purse_and_wax_to_fat_on_the_one_and_heavy_on_the_other,_you_should_pity_him; The_climbing_will_be_harder_for_his_flesh,_and_the_burden_will_make_his_way_longer. And_should_you_in_your_leanness_see_his_flesh_puffing_upward,_help_him_a_step;_it_will_add_to_your_swiftness. You_cannot_judge_any_man_beyond_your_knowledge_of_him,_and_how_small_is_your_knowledge. I_would_not_listen_to_a_conqueror_preaching_to_the_conquered. The_truly_free_man_is_he_who_bears_the_load_of_the_bond_slave_patiently. A_thousand_years_ago_my_neighbor_said_to_me,_“I_hate_life,_for_it_is_naught_but_a_thing_of_pain.” And_yesterday_I_passed_by_a_cemetery_and_saw_life_dancing_upon_his_grave. Strife_in_nature_is_but_disorder_longing_for_order. Solitude_is_a_silent_storm_that_breaks_down_all_our_dead_branches;_yet_it_sends_our_living_roots_deeper_into_the_living_heart_of_the_living_earth. Once_I_spoke_of_the_sea_to_a_brook,_and_the_brook_thought_me_but_an_imaginative_exaggerator; And_once_I_spoke_of_a_brook_to_the_sea,_and_the_sea_thought_me_but_a_depreciative_defamer. How_narrow_is_the_vision_that_exalts_the_busyness_of_the_ant_above_the_singing_of_the_grasshopper. The_highest_virtue_here_may_be_the_least_in_another_world. The_deep_and_the_high_go_to_the_depth_or_to_the_height_in_a_straight_line;_only_the_spacious_can_move_in_circles. If_it_were_not_for_our_conception_of_weights_and_measures_we_would_stand_in_awe_of_the_firefly_as_we_do_before_the_sun. A_scientist_without_imagination_is_a_butcher_with_dull_knives_and_outworn_scales. But_what_would_you,_since_we_are_not_all_vegetarians? When_you_sing_the_hungry_hears_you_with_his_stomach. Death_is_not_nearer_to_the_aged_than_to_the_newborn;_neither_is_life. If_indeed_you_must_be_candid,_be_candid_beautifully;_otherwise_keep_silent,_for_there_is_a_man_in_our_neighborhood_who_is_dying. Mayhap_a_funeral_among_men_is_a_wedding_feast_among_the_angels. A_forgotten_reality_may_die_and_leave_in_its_will_seven_thousand_actualities_and_facts_to_be_spent_in_its_funeral_and_the_building_of_a_tomb. In_truth_we_talk_only_to_ourselves,_but_sometimes_we_talk_loud_enough_that_others_may_hear_us. The_obvious_is_that_which_is_never_seen_until_someone_expresses_it_simply. If_the_Milky_Way_were_not_within_me_how_should_I_have_seen_it_or_known_it? Unless_I_am_a_physician_among_physicians_they_would_not_believe_that_I_am_an_astronomer. Perhaps_the_sea’s_definition_of_a_shell_is_the_pearl. Perhaps_time’s_definition_of_coal_is_the_diamond. Fame_is_the_shadow_of_passion_standing_in_the_light. A_root_is_a_flower_that_disdains_fame. There_is_neither_religion_nor_science_beyond_beauty. Every_great_man_I_have_known_had_something_small_in_his_makeup; And_it_was_that_small_something_which_prevented_inactivity_or_madness_or_suicide. The_truly_great_man_is_he_who_would_master_no_one,_and_who_would_be_mastered_by_none. I_would_not_believe_that_a_man_is_mediocre_simply_because_he_kills_the_criminals_and_the_prophets. Tolerance_is_love_sick_with_the_sickness_of_haughtiness. Worms_will_turn;_but_is_it_not_strange_that_even_elephants_will_yield? A_disagreement_may_be_the_shortest_cut_between_two_minds. I_am_the_flame_and_I_am_the_dry_bush,_and_one_part_of_me_consumes_the_other_part. We_are_all_seeking_the_summit_of_the_holy_mountain;_but_shall_not_our_road_be_shorter_if_we_consider_the_past_a_chart_and_not_a_guide? Wisdom_ceases_to_be_wisdom_when_it_becomes_too_proud_to_weep,_too_grave_to_laugh,_and_too_selffull_to_seek_other_than_itself. Had_I_filled_myself_with_all_that_you_know_what_room_should_I_have_for_all_that_you_do_not_know? I_have_learned_silence_from_the_talkative,_toleration_from_the_intolerant,and_kindness_from_the_unkind; Yet_strange,_I_am_ungrateful_to_these_teachers. A_bigot_is_a_stonedeaf_orator. The_silence_of_the_envious_is_too_noisy. When_you_reach_the_end_of_what_you_should_know, you_will_be_at_the_beginning_of_what_you_should_sense. An_exaggeration_is_a_truth_that_has_lost_its_temper. If_you_can_see_only_what_light_reveals_and_hear_only_what_sound_announces,_Then_in_truth_you_do_not_see_nor_do_you_hear. A_fact_is_a_truth_un*ed. You_cannot_laugh_and_be_unkind_at_the_same_time._ The_nearest_to_my_heart_are_a_king_without_a_kingdom_and_a_poor_man_who_does_not_know_how_to_beg. A_shy_failure_is_nobler_than_an_immodest_success. Dig_anywhere_in_the_earth_and_you_will_find_a_treasure,_only_you_must_dig_with_the_faith_of_a_peasant. Said_a_hunted_fox_followed_by_twenty_horsemen_and_a_pack_of_twenty_hounds, “Of_course_they_will_kill_me._But_how_poor_and_how_stupid_they_must_be. “Surely_it_would_not_be_worth_while_for_twenty_foxes_riding_on_twenty_asses_and_accompanied_by_twenty_wolves_to_chase_and_kill_one_man.” It_is_the_mind_in_us_that_yields_to_the_laws_made_by_us,_but_never_the_spirit_in_us. A_traveler_am_I_and_a_navigator,_and_every_day_I_discover_a_new_region_within_my_soul. A_woman_protested_saying,_“Of_course_it_was_a_righteous_war._My_son_fell_in_it.” I_said_to_life,_“I_would_hear_death_speak.”第十一章 And_life_raised_her_voice_a_little_higher_and_said, “You_hear_him_now.” When_you_have_solved_all_the_mysteries_of_life_you_long_for_death,_for_it_is_but_another_mystery_of_life. Birth_and_death_are_the_two_noblest_expressions_of_bravery. My_friend,_you_and_I_shall_remain_strangers_unto_life, And_unto_one_another,_and_unto_oneself, Until_the_day_when_you_shall_speak_and_I_shall_listen_deeming_your_voice_my_own_voice; And_when_I_shall_stand_before_you,_ Thinking_myself_standing_before_a_mirror. They_say_to_me,_“Should_you_know_yourself_you_would_know_all_men.” And_I_say,_“Only_when_I_seek_all_men_shall_I_know_myself.” Man_is_two_men:_one_is_awake_in_darkness,_the_other_is_asleep_in_light. A_hermit_is_one_who_renounces_the_world_of_fragments_that_he_may_enjoy_the_world_wholly_and_without_interruption. There_lies_a_green_field_between_the_scholar_and_the_poet: should_the_scholar_cross_it,_he_becomes_a_wise_man; should_the_poet_cross_it,_he_becomes_a_prophet. Yestereve_I_saw_philosophers_in_the_marketplace_carrying_their_heads_in_baskets,
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