Unless the inhabitants of an island share a state of consciousness which has been developed over time by the best minds of past generations, its people and itself will not survive.

There has never been an island that has exceeded itself by indiscriminately acceding to the wishes of a nearby continent.

An island is like the flame of spirit in the heart, it does not grow brighter, warmer or spread more light, by meeting the needs of a more dense body.

An island is like the crown of an ancient redwood, it can become part of a canopy, and it can intertwine its roots, but its trunk stands strong and tall alone in the forest.

An island is like a cloud, which can be trapped and robbed of its most essential nature in the fall of rain on a mountainside.

No island was ever made better by a bridge, a plane route, a cruise ship or an explorer.

Paper money, trinkets, unneeded tools, toys and technology and land-lusting bipeds have never made an island more beautiful, self-sustaining or naturally enchanting.

The smaller the island, the more beautiful the setting, the more valuable the elements, the more warrior-like must be the inhabitants to protect the land from the soulless ones who see and feel only the nothingness they bring.

Every man is shipwrecked, but not everyone is respectfully grateful to come upon an island, which also evokes the joy of one’s heart.

It is an irony of the universe that the miserably selfish have come to the land of Aloha.

- Raphael O’Suna,   Haiku