Page 195 - The Book of Rumi

that today, for them, is a day of joyous celebration. You should all be mourn-
ing your own dead hearts instead, for you’ve no consciousness except for this
earthly existence!”
Without further delay, the poet gathered up his pen and paper and hastily
rode out of Aleppo, wary that if he remained one more hour in this town, he
might lose his faith in humankind and human intelligence altogether.

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