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The Prophet Gibran Kahlil. Chapter 28 The Farewell

The Prophet Gibran Kahlil. Chapter 28 The Farewell

Chapter 28  The Farewell  AND now it was evening. And Almitra the seeress said, “Blessed be this day and this place and your spirit that has spoken.” And he answered, Was it I who spoke? Was I not also a listener? Then he descended the steps of the Temple and all the people followed him. And he reached his ship and stood upon the deck. And facing the people again, he raised his voice and said: People of Orphalese, the wind bids me leave you. Less hasty am I than the wind, yet I must go. We wanderers, ever seeking the lonelier way, begin no day where we have ended another day; and no sunrise finds us where sunset left us. Even while the earth sleeps we travel. We are the seeds of the tenacious plant, and it is in our ripeness and our fullness of heart that we are given to the wind and are scattered. Brief were my days among you, and briefer still the words I have spoken. But should my voice fade in your ears, and my love vanish in your memory, then I will come again, And with a richer h

Blast from the past XI

Wisdom through the ages

Blast from the past X

Wisdom through the ages

Blast from the past IX

Wisdom through the ages

Blast from the past VIII

Wisdom through the ages

Blast from the past VII

                                                                                     Wisdom through the ages

Blast from the past VI

                                       Wisdom through the ages

Blast from the past V

Wisdom through the ages

Blast from the past IV

Wisdom through the ages

Blast from the past III

Wisdom through the ages

Blast from the past. II

                                    wisdom through the ages

Blast from the past I

Wisdom through the ages

Henry D. Thoreau Walden Pond : Conclusion

THE POND   Chapter XVIII: Conclusion To the sick the doctors wisely recommend a change of air and scenery. Thank Heaven, here is not all the world. The buckeye does not grow in New England, and the mockingbird is rarely heard here. The wild goose is more of a cosmopolite than we; he breaks his fast in Canada, takes a luncheon in the Ohio, and plumes himself for the night in a southern bayou. Even the bison, to some extent, keeps pace with the seasons cropping the pastures of the Colorado only till a greener and sweeter grass awaits him by the Yellowstone. Yet we think that if rail fences are pulled down, and stone walls piled up on our farms, bounds are henceforth set to our lives and our fates decided. If you are chosen