Thou, O creature of G-d, wast created of the dust; therefore, be humble as the dust. Be not covetous, nor oppressive, nor headstrong. Thou art from the dust; be not like fire. When the terrible fire raised his head in pride, the dust prostrated itself in humility.
Pain is a treasure, for it contains mercies; The kernel is soft when the rind is scraped off. O brother, the place of darkness and cold Is the fountain of Life and the cup of ecstasy. So also is endurance of pain and sickness and disease. For from abasement proceeds exaltation. The spring seasons are hidden in the autumns, If spiritual manifestations had been sufficient, The creation of the world had been needless and vain. If spiritual thought were equivalent to love of God, Outward forms of temples and prayers would not exist
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