Khalil Gibran
Khalil Gibran
Kahlil Gibranwas a Lebanese-American artist, poet, and writer of the New York Pen League...
NationalityLebanese
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth6 January 1883
CityBsharri, Lebanon
CountryLebanon
inspirational death spiritual
For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun? And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.
thank-you gratitude yoga
Wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving.
courage blood perfection
Advance, and never halt, for advancing is perfection. Advance and do not fear the thorns in the path, for they draw only corrupt blood.
life desire half
Desire is half of life, indifference is half of death.
sowing doe sowing-seeds
Knowledge cultivates your seeds and does not sow in your seeds.
communication wings space
For thought is a bird of space, that in a cage of words may indeed unfold its wings but cannot fly.
inspirational-love grief wine
Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven?
stars night light
The sun teaches to all things that grow their longing for the light. But it is night that raises them to the stars.
inspirational spiritual blood
Do not fear the thorns in your path, for they draw only corrupt blood.
inspirational wise wisdom
No man can reveal to you aught but that which already lies half asleep in the dawning of your knowledge. The teacher who walks in the shadow of the temple, among his followers, gives not of his wisdom but rather of his faith and his lovingness. If he is indeed wise he does not bid you enter the house of his wisdom, but rather leads you to the threshold of your own mind.
sympathy death grief
For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.
spiritual loneliness safety
I have found both freedom and safety in my madness; the freedom of loneliness and the safety from being understood, for those who understand us enslave something in us.
heart pride self
Thus with my lips have I denounced you, while my heart, bleeding within me, called you tender names. It was love lashed by its own self that spoke. It was pride half slain that fluttered in the dust. It was my hunger for your love that raged from the housetop, while my own love, kneeling in silence, prayed your forgiveness.
way mystery
life unfolds itself in mysteries ways.