For Life Goes Not Backward, Nor Tarries

Your Joy Can Fill You Only As Deeply As Your Sorrow Has Carved You.

Love Is The Gentle Smile Upon The Lips Of Beauty.

And That Which Sings And Contemplates In You Is Still Dwelling Within The Bounds Of That First Moment Which Scattered The Stars Into Space.

The Wolves Prey Upon The Lambs In The Darkness Of The Night, But The Blood Stains Remain Upon The Stones In The Valley Until The Dawn Comes, And The Sun Reveals The Crime To All.

Do Not Fear The Thorns In Your Path, For They Draw Only Corrupt Blood.