Quote by Abdu'l-Baha

In this journey you must become a lover of your enemies, so that the purity of your love may attract the hearts.


In this journey you must become a lover of your enemies, so

Summary

This quote emphasizes the importance of adopting an attitude of love towards our enemies. It suggests that by cultivating a genuine love for those who oppose or hurt us, our pure and sincere affection will have a compelling effect on their hearts. Rather than responding with hatred or seeking revenge, the quote urges us to embrace love as a transformative force that has the potential to change hearts and promote harmony even in the face of adversity. It highlights the power of love in promoting understanding and reconciliation.

By Abdu'l-Baha
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Random Quotations

As she came up to the arch Elizabeth saw with a start that it was written on. She went closer. She peered at the stone. There were names on it. Every grain of the surface had been carved with British names; their chiselled capitals rose from the level of her ankles to the height of the great arch itself; on every surface of every column as far as her eyes eyes could see there were names teeming, reeling, over surfaces of yards, of hundreds of yards, over furlongs of stone.She moved through the space beneath the arch where the man was sweeping. She found the other pillas identically marked, their faces obliterated on all sides by the names that were carved on them.'Who are these, these ...?; She gestured with her hand.''These?' The man with the brush sounded surprised. 'The lost.''Men who died in battle?''No. The lost, the ones they did not find. The others are in cemetries.''These are just the ... unfound?'She looked at the vault above her head and then around in panic at the endless writing, as though the surface of the sky had been papered in footnotes.When she could speak again, she said, 'from the whole war?'The man shook his head. 'Just these fields.' He gestured with his arm.Elizabeth went and sat on the steps on the other side of the monument. Beneath her was a formal garden with some rows of white headstones, each with a tended plant or flower at its base, each cleaned and beautiful in the weak winter sunlight.'Nobody told me.' She ran her fingers with their red-painted nails back through her thick dark hair. 'My God, nobody told me.

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