Every Crime Destroys More Edens Than Our

See! Those Fiendish Lineaments Graven On The Darkness, The Writhed Lip Of Scorn, The Mockery Of That Living Eye, The Pointed Finger, Touching The Sore Place In Your Heart! Do You Remember Any Act Of Enormous Folly, At Which You Would Blush, Even In The Remotest Cavern Of The Earth? Then Recognize Your Shame.

Sunlight Is Painting.

Cannot You Conceive That Another Man May Wish Well To The World And Struggle For Its Good On Some Other Plan Than Precisely That Which You Have Laid Down?

She Poured Out The Liquid Music Of Her Voice To Quench The Thirst Of His Spirit.

The Fiend In His Own Shape Is Less Hideous Than When He Rages In The Breast Of Men.