Keep me away from the wisdom which does not cry, the philosophy which does not laugh and the greatness which does not bow before children.
Gibran is doing something quietly radical here—he's not romanticizing childhood innocence, but rather using children as a measure of whether our ideas actually *work*. A philosophy that can't make a child laugh has failed at something fundamental: it hasn't earned the right to call itself true, because truth should illuminate rather than obscure. When a surgeon explains a difficult diagnosis with genuine warmth, or a teacher finds the absurdity in a complex equation to make her students smile, they're honoring this principle—they're testing their knowledge against the clarity that children demand. The real rebuke isn't to intellectuals, but to the pretentious and the self-satisfied, those who've mistaken difficulty for depth.
“When you arise in the morning, think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive — to breathe, to...”
Marcus Aurelius“Drive your business. Let not your business drive you.”
Benjamin Franklin“Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity.”
Seneca“An investment in knowledge pays the best interest.”
Benjamin Franklin