Where poverty for the sake of an external objective becomes a moral good, oppression has already set in.
The abolition of legal slavery had enough scriptural justification but was not enacted earlier due to greed, folly, and inertia — a failure.
The Muslims of the North-West have categorically split from their Eastern counterparts — a particularly harsh stasis — both lie in ruin.
At the first opportune time, one must visit Miyan.
Do not serve the maimed, the crippled, and the poor for reward from the Master — this is a disgrace to the served, the server, and the act of serving — serve the broken and rent in pure love, as equal; nay, as superior, for they might be, or they might not be, but there is no available human adjudication on these matters.
The Prophet — may the entirety of peace as it is known, and the entirety of blessings as they are known, be upon him and his progeny — was not simply the master of love, a magister amoris, but also rei militaris peritissimus.
Inter stultitiam et fortitudinem tenuissimum discrimen est.
One bows one’s head only to the One, and one’s knee only to the master.
The next revolutions about the nature of reality will be led in biology.
It is a tenable averment that the norms around what is legitimate violence can undergo swift alteration, even an oscillation to certain medievalesque notions of what the syntactically valid meaning of legitimate plus violence is to be — a phenomenon to be carefully observed.
The times compel the Musalman to pay heed to the master of Sinope, in the donning of filth on his back.
The Lord is mercy over all people, simpliciter — no one of faith can deny that.
I am in want of the Himalayan Buzzard’s feline carols.
There is an insurmountable chasm between what-is and what-was and what-could-be.
Man as maker.
There is little strength in bellicosity, for the measure of man is not in the flesh, but rather in the composition that one calls man.
Metaphysica a turba necata est.
I have no fondness for my time spent in Britain in years past — apart from a few quiet moments in the Highlands; Edinburgh was strangely bedlamite while being paradoxically sedated; the architecture was claustrophobic, and the weather as I remember was temperamental even in the summers; although Arthur’s Seat was a rather welcome reprieve, for I still remember the flaw of wind that would split apart my hair at the seams; in any case, I was, at least, less than disappointed to make my home in some edge of London.
Now that the clamor of the winds is decidedly coming to a halt, I find in myself a swelling up of harmonies, and all the thoughts that I have had about them now dissolve in the scar of my palm.
Fluid politics: an understanding of the preponderant role of infrastructure.
There is a Sun! Alive! His love cast on me, resplendent shards.
I have seen the plague, the rapture, the bliss, and the end.
Let the sugar ant feast on the remains of the sweetness that the Lord so readily made available for one.
The One has spiritualized the essence of being in the body — a holy materialism.
Exegesis will not yield the results one hopes for.
I have held in hand a thought, felt its form.
One must attempt to perfect one’s given name.
Is eating the last rotten grape piety or folly?