42 things from this book went into her brain. Here are the first 6.
In The Prophet, Gibran shows Almustafa feeling that staying too long in one place is to freeze and be bound in a mould, so leaving is a kind of growth.
Gibran has Almustafa ask whether the day of parting might be the day of gathering, suggesting that endings can also be a harvest.
Gibran observes through the people of Orphalese that love often does not know its own depth until the hour of separation.
In The Prophet, Gibran says that love tests and prunes a person so that they may come to know the secrets of their own heart.
Gibran writes that love gives nothing but itself and takes nothing but from itself, and that love is sufficient unto love.
In The Prophet, Gibran advises partners to share their lives while keeping their own selves, like the strings of a lute that quiver to the same music yet remain separate.
Gibran holds that the truest giving is of oneself rather than of possessions, and that those who give with joy are rewarded by the joy itself.
Gibran says that receiving with courage and grace is a gift in itself, and that a receiver should not carry a heavy debt of gratitude, which can become a yoke.
Gibran teaches that work keeps us in step with life, and that idleness makes us strangers to the seasons.
Gibran holds that work done with love is love made visible, while work done with indifference yields a bitter bread that feeds only half a person's hunger.
Gibran says that joy and sorrow are inseparable, since the well that fills our laughter is often the same well that was filled by our tears.
Gibran warns that comfort can enter a house as a guest, then become a host and finally a master, so that we end up serving the things we own.
Gibran notes that clothes can give privacy yet can also become a harness, and that much of our need to hide comes from shame rather than from nature.
Gibran holds that trade brings abundance only when it is conducted in love and kindly justice, since without them it breeds greed in some and hunger in others.
Gibran argues that wrongdoers are not strangers to the rest of us, since a wrong done in a community springs partly from a hidden will shared by all.
Gibran says that remorse is often a truer justice than any punishment, since it calls in the night so that people wake and look honestly at themselves.
Gibran likens human laws to sand-towers that children build and destroy, and warns that those who live only by the shadows cast by laws miss the sun that casts them.
Gibran argues that freedom is not won by burning law books or toppling tyrants, since the law and the tyrant are first built within ourselves.
Gibran says reason alone is confining and passion alone burns itself out, so the soul should lift reason to the height of passion and guide passion with reason.
Gibran says pain breaks the shell of our understanding, as the stone of a fruit must break so that its heart can stand in the sun.
Gibran advises treating reason and passion like two loved guests in one house, honouring neither above the other, so that the heart can rest in reason and move in passion.
Gibran says that the self is a boundless sea, so we should say we have found a truth rather than the truth, and meet the soul walking on our own path.
Gibran holds that a true teacher does not hand over his wisdom but leads students to the threshold of their own mind, since no one can give another their understanding.
Gibran holds that friendship exists for the deepening of the spirit, not for what can be gained from it, and that a friend meets our needs without filling our emptiness.
Gibran says that much talk half murders thought, since a thought caged in words may open its wings but cannot fly.
Gibran says time, like love, is undivided, so the seasons we measure should each embrace the others, and today should hold both remembrance and longing.
Gibran suggests that what we call evil is often good that has lost its way, hungry and thirsty, and that a divided self is not evil but only divided.
Gibran says prayer is the expansion of yourself into the living air, and should be offered in the fullness of joy as well as in distress.
Gibran says pleasure is a freedom-song but is not freedom itself, so we should sing it with a full heart without losing our hearts in the singing.
Gibran advises remembering past pleasures with gratitude, as one remembers a summer harvest, rather than with regret that clouds the mind.
Gibran uses the bee and the flower to show that giving and receiving pleasure can both be a need and an ecstasy, with each giving the other life.
Gibran holds that faith cannot be separated from our daily work, since all our hours are wings that carry the soul from self to self.
Gibran says beauty is not a need but an ecstasy, a heart enflamed and a soul enchanted rather than a hand held out for something.
Gibran says daily life is itself a temple, and that we should bring our whole selves, our work and our care for others into it, since neither revery nor adoration can rise above our deeds.
Gibran likens our fear of death to a shepherd trembling before a king who is about to honour him, and suggests that trust in our dreams opens the way to what lies beyond.
Gibran says that a farewell need not be an ending, since a truth well spoken returns in a clearer voice and finds its way into the understanding of others.
Gibran says that our needs change but our love does not, and that a day which does not fully satisfy us can still be a promise of another day.
Gibran says people should not be measured by their smallest deed or their failures, since judging an ocean by its foam is a poor way to reckon its power.
Gibran observes that the kind often give without knowing they give at all, and that a kindness which gazes at itself in a mirror turns to stone.
Gibran admits that he was both believer and doubter, and that he put his own finger in his wound to deepen his belief in others and his knowledge of them.
Gibran praises the patient captain who waits quietly while the sails and rudder grow restless, a picture of steady leadership that does not hurry the moment.
Gibran ends his farewell by saying that if people meet again in memory, they will speak together and sing a deeper song, so that a parting can deepen a bond rather than end it.
