The Peace of the Contented Dervish

Don't say a throne is the highest rank there is; nothing is safer than the poor dervish's peace. Those who travel light move faster. This is the truth, and the wise take it to heart. The empty-handed man worries only about one loaf; the ruler of the world must feed a whole world. When the beggar finally gets his evening bread, he sleeps as soundly as the king of Syria. Sorrow and joy alike come to an end; death lifts them both away from your head. It makes no difference: the one crowned with a diadem, or the one bent under the burden of tribute. Whether your head is held high above the stars, or you sit destitute in a prison cell, once death's cavalry has charged over them both, you can no longer tell one from the other.