For What Is The Self-complacent Man But

Don't Hold Yourselves Cheap, Seeing That The Creator Of All Things And Of You Estimates Your Value So High, So Dear, That He Pours Out For You Every Day The Most Precious Blood Of His Only-begotten Son.

In Doing What We Ought We Deserve No Praise, Because It Is Our Duty.

Narrow Is The Mansion Of My Soul; Enlarge Thou It, That Thou Mayest Enter In. It Is Ruinous; Repair Thou It. It Has That Within Which Must Offend Thine Eyes; I Confess And Know It. But Who Shall Cleanse It? Or To Whom Should I Cry, Save Thee? Lord, Cleanse Me From My Secret Faults, And Spare Thy Servant From The Power Of The Enemy. I Believe, And Therefore Do I Speak.

For A Sentence Is Not Complete Unless Each Word, Once Its Syllables Have Been Pronounced, Gives Way To Make Room For The Next...they Are Set Up On The Course Of Their Existence, And The Faster They Climb Towards Its Zenith, The More They Hasten Towards The Point Where They Exist No More.

Between Urine And Filth We Are Born.