This is called the Temple of Silence, the Place of Power; for when we reach the place of silence in mind, we have reached the place of power -- the place where all is one, the one power -- God... Only as we turn from the without to the silence of the within can we hope to make conscious union with God... God does not speak so much in the fire, the earthquake, or the great wind, as in the still, small voice -- the still, small voice deep in our own souls.
"Tell me the weight of a snowflake," a coal-mouse asked a wild dove. "Nothing more than nothing," was the answer.
"In that case I must tell you a marvelous story," the coal-mouse said. "I sat on a branch of a fir, close to its trunk, when it began to snow, not heavily, not in a giant blizzard, no, just like in a dream, without any violence. Since I didn't have anything better to do, I counted the snow-flakes settling on the twigs and needles of my branch. Their number was exactly 3,741,952. When the next snowflake dropped onto the branch–nothing more than nothing, as you say–the branch broke off."
Having said that, the coal-mouse flew away. The dove, since Noah's time an authority on the matter; thought about the story for a while and finally said to herself: "Perhaps there is only one person's voice lacking for peace to come about in the world."