Curb Your Talent Lest It Speed Where

Now You Know How Much My Love For You Burns Deep In Me When I Forget About Our Emptiness, And Deal With Shadows As With Solid Things.

L'amor Che Move Il Sole E L'altre Stelle (the Love That Moves The Sun And The Other Stars)

O How Far Remov'd, Predestination! Is Thy Foot From Such As See Not The First Cause Entire: And Ye, O Mortal Men! Be Wary How Ye Judge: For We, Who See The Maker, Know Not Yet The Number Of The Chosen; And Esteem Such Scantiness Of Knowledge Our Delight: For All Good Is, In That Primal Good, Concentrate; And God's Will And Ours Are One.

I Wept Not — So To Stone I Grew Within.

There Is A Gentle Thought That Often Springs To Life In Me, Because It Speaks Of You.