Flight Is Lawful, When One Flies From

And Forever Goodbye! Forever! Oh, Sir, Can You Imagine How Dreadful This Cruel Word Sounds When One Loves?

All Is Asleep: The Army, The Wind, And Neptune.

My Death, Taking The Light From My Eyes, Gives Back To The Day The Purity Which They Soiled.

Flight Is Lawful, When One Flies From Tyrants.

Vice, Like Virtue, Grows In Small Steps, And No True Innocence Can Ever Fall At Once To Deepest Guilt.