Each Lost Day Has Its Patron Saint!

Your Voices Break And Falter In The Darkness, Break, Falter, And Are Still.

But, When The Goddess' Work Is Done,the Woman's Still Remains.

Thiar Ain't No Sense In Gittin' Riled!

Never A Lip Is Curved With Pain That Can't Be Kissed Into Smiles Again.

Never A Tear Bedims The Eye That Time And Patience Will Not Dry.