And Dare Love That, And Say So

As Peace Is Of All Goodness, So War Is An Emblem, A Hieroglyphic, Of All Misery.

Commemoration Of John Donne, Priest, Poet, 1631 He Was The Word That Spake It; He Took The Bread And Brake It; And What That Word Did Make It I Do Believe, And Take It.

No Man Is An Island Unto Himself.

I Wonder By My Troth, What Thou, And I Did, Till We Loved? Were We Not Weaned Till Then? But Sucked On Country Pleasures, Childishly? Or Snorted We In The Seven Sleepers' Den?

Death Is An Ascension To A Better Library.