This site is dedicated to the memory of Dr. Alan William Smolowe who gave birth to the creation of this database.
May today there be peace within. May you trust that you are exactly where you are meant to be. May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith in yourself and others. May you use the gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you. May you be content with yourself just the way you are. Let this knowledge settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love. It is there for each and every one of us.
Faith | Freedom | Knowledge | Love | Peace | Praise | Soul | Trust |
So then what will be acceptable to take as a model for order? Thus he said, Nothing is like modeling oneself on Heaven. Heaven's conduct is expansive and impartial; its gifts are generous and demand no repayment; its brightness endures without fading. Thus the sage kings model themselves on it.
To practice properly the Art of Peace, you must: Calm the spirit and return to the source. Cleanse the body and spirit by removing all malice, selfishness, and desire. Be ever grateful for the gifts received from the universe, your family, Mother nature, and your fellow human beings.
Crystal clear, Sharp and bright, The sacred sword Allows no opening For evil to roost. To practice properly the Art of Peace, you must: Calm the spirit and return to the source. Cleanse the body and spirit by removing all malice, selfishness, and desire. Be ever-grateful for the gifts received from the universe, your family, Mother Nature, and your fellow human beings.
Art | Body | Evil | Mother | Practice | Sacred | Spirit | Art |
Books make great gifts because they have whole worlds inside of them. And it's much cheaper to buy somebody a book than it is to buy them the whole world!
The real man knows no other goal than life itself. Living totally is his goal; living moment to moment, intensely, passionately, hot, that is his goal. Then each moment becomes so precious, such a gift. And only when you know those gifts can you be thankful to god, can you feel grateful, can prayer arise in you.
What I got was not so much gifts and wishes come trues but a feeling of peace. I got peace itself, actually. And when you have peace, you can be strong; and when you are strong, you can get through what you have to get through, and not with exhaustion and frown marks and slumped shoulders but with relative happiness, and humor, and sometimes even gaiety.
I think miracles exist in part as gifts and in part as clues that there is something beyond the flat world we see.
Sometimes I go days or weeks without hearing a single kind word from anyone. These are difficult times, then it seems that human goodness is gone and life seems just existence. The teacher said: We need to explore their own fireplace. We need to add more fuel to try to illuminate the dark room that has become our lives. When we hear that our fire and burning wood boom throws sparks when read stories passionately told, us back hope. If we are able to love us and we can love. This is only a matter of time… Sometimes the best of God’s gifts arrive by the shattering of all the window panes.
All things are sold: the very light of Heaven Is venal; earth's unsparing gifts of love, The smallest and most despicable things That lurk in the abysses of the deep, All objects of our life, even life itself, And the poor pittance which the laws allow Of liberty, the fellowship of man, Those duties which his heart of human love Should urge him to perform instinctively, Are bought and sold as in a public mart Of undisguising selfishness, that sets On each its price, the stamp-mark of her reign.
Ah, there are moments for us here, when, seeing Life’s inequalities, and woe, and care, The burdens laid upon our mortal being Seem heavier than the human heart can bear. Father, perfect my trust; Let my spirit feel in death That her feet are firmly set On the rock of a living faith! For little children everywhere A joyous season still we make; We bring our precious gifts to them, Even for the dear child Jesus’ sake. For those roses bright, oh, those roses bright! I have twined them in my sister’s locks That are hid in the dust from sight. No thought within her bosom stirs, But wakes some feeling dark and dread; God keep thee from a doom like hers, Of living when the hopes are dead. O years, gone down into the past, What pleasant memories come to me Of your untroubled days of peace, And hours almost of ecstasy. There are eyes half defiant, Half meek and compliant; Black eyes, with a wondrous, witching charm To bring us good or to work us harm. Women are only told that they resemble angels when they are young and beautiful; consequently, it is their persons, not their virtues, that procure them homage.
Angels | Children | Good | Heart | Little | Mortal | Spirit | Thought | Work | Child | Thought |
Compassion and shame come over one who considers how precarious is the origin of the proudest of living beings: often the smell of a lately extinguished lamp is enough to cause a miscarriage. And to think that from such a frail beginning a tyrant or butcher may be born! You who trust in your physical strength, who embrace the gifts of fortune and consider yourself not their ward but their son, you who have a domineering spirit, you who consider yourself a god as soon as success swells your breast, think how little could have destroyed you!
Beginning | Cause | Enough | Fortune | God | Little | Shame | Success | Trust | God | Think |
I am convinced all of humanity is born with more gifts than we know. Most are born geniuses and just get de-geniused rapidly.
Humanity |
The gifts of nature are infinite in their variety, and mind differs from mind almost as much as body from body
For it would have been better that man should have been born dumb, nay, void of all reason, rather than that he should employ the gifts of Providence to the destruction of his neighbor.
Better | Man | Providence |
Without natural gifts technical rules are useless.
It is mankind's discovery of language which more than any other single thing has separated him from the animal creation. Without language, what concept have we of past or future as separated from the immediate present? Without language, how can we tell anyone what we feel, or what we think? It might be said that until he developed language, man had no soul, for without language how could he reach deep inside himself and discover the truths that are hidden there, or find out what emotions he shared, or did not share, with his fellow men and women. But because this greatest gift of all gifts is in daily use, and is smeared, and battered and trivialized by commonplace associations, we too often forget the splendor of which it is capable, and the pleasures that it can give, from the pen of a master.
Discovery | Emotions | Future | Language | Man | Men | Past | Discovery | Truths |
Establish peace, for us, O Lord, In everlasting grace, Nor let us be of Thee abhorred, Who art our dwelling-place. We wander ever to and fro, Or sit in chains in exile drear, Yet still proclaim where’er we go, The splendour of Our Lord is here. Sore-tried, involved in heathen mesh, Deep-sunk as though in midmost sea, Each morn the thought is roused afresh, Who will arise to set us free? From rampart and from mountain reft, Immured in thick and pitchy gloom, Had not the Lord a remnant left, Death in the dust had been our doom. All realms behold our driven seed, Like wounded doves we fly their hate. All nations hunt us and impede And in the desert lie in wait. Gripped as a bird within a net, Ever pursued in deadly chase, With harsh devices daily met, Perchance our God will grant us grace. How many periods are past, And we in exile lingering, By enemies encompassed fast, Who jeer that now we have no King! They plot and league in lying spite God’s truth with cunning to eclipse, Our tongues, they say, shall give us might, We own no master to our lips. Shine forth, great God, in splendid flame, Bare Thy great arm of ancient days, Be jealous for Thy glorious name, Not unto us, O Lord, the praise. To dust the Arab kingdom sweep, The ravenous beasts who tear and bite, Who rend our scattered sons as sheep, Whose motto is to seize by might. Our heritage they have possessed, Exiled, devoured us at their will, Consumed and wasted and oppressed And machinate against us still. So low our nation hath been brought, So many masters override, A little more and it were naught, Had not the Lord been on its side. Beneath the feet of slaves we bend, In pit and prison we are pressed, The hunters at our necks impend, We labour still and have no rest. Where is that kindness from above Of which Thy servitors have heard, The boon of Thy peculiar love, For which we have our fathers’ word? O glorious sovran of the height, Abase, destroy their topmost tower, The final marvel bring to light, Arise and save us, show Thy power. Uplift the lowly from the mire, And make our meditation sweet, The lily gather from the brier, And our salvation, Lord, complete. With joy the lost and wounded bless, Wipe from all eyes the tears that run, Unveil the orb of righteousness, For unto us is born a son. O break the yoke, the slave release, Rebuke the arrogant again, And send Thy messenger of peace, Whose feet are welcome as the rain. Rejoice, my dear despised, the King In all His beauty thou shalt see, And this the song that men shall sing In Judah’s land, our own and free. The prayer of the meek finds grace, And God will hearken and forgive, Tread down corruption, sin erase, And in His light will let us live. My song of penitence He ranks As though an altar-sacrifice. Healed of my sins I give Him thanks, Who ’spite our deeds remits the price Delight and peace from Thee we hail, Thy hand Thy people’s sin outscored, Drew o’er iniquity a veil Nor gave wrongdoing its reward. Perpetual ascend to Thee Thy people’s and Thy servants’ cries, O let us Thy compassion see, And Thy salvation greet our eyes.
Art | Cause | Day | Heart | Man | Mob | Peace | Will | Witness | Art |
Who is like unto Thee to uncover the deeps, And who hath Thy power to raise and cast down? Show Thy marvellous love to the captive who weeps, O Worker of wonders, of awesome renown! Thy children belovèd intoned a new song When Egypt’s proud host found a watery grave, There was praise from the saints in their jubilant throng When the wheels of the chariots clogged in the wave. Thy fondlings storm-tossed were all weeping and tired When the great roaring flood-tides before them arose, But Thy hand led them safe to the haven desired And the waters returned, overwhelming their foes. The chariots of Pharaoh and all that great host God cast in the billows and covered them o’er, But His people trod sea-bottom, coast unto coast, He admonished the sea and it dried like the shore. Thus, Lord, do Thou Zion support and uphold, Arise, for the hour of her grace is at hand, The day long appointed to sing as of old, God reigneth, His Kingdom forever shall stand.
Cause | Dawn | Heart | Self | Strength | Thought | Thought |