[piramirra]

Sweet like sugar is Gibran. So was Herman Hesse. Wonder if under the sublime is a storm, a brewing madness, an obsession with death, a raging fever that consumes them in their tempestuous personal lives. I have read The Prophet and liked it. That he lost his sister and himself to tuberculosis and mother to cancer, father to drinking, and ill-health dogging him may have something to do with the billiance of his works which is all he would want us to remember him by. Dark searing truths smolder to precious diamonds. Truth is beauty, beauty truth and both god. Men like him are not born every day. So sad is we dont see them even if they are amidst us. He does open our eyes.