Gone Are The Birds That Were Our

Most People Would Succeed In Small Things If They Were Not Troubled With Great Ambitions.

Ah, The Souls Of Those That Die Are But Sunbeams Lifted Higher.

Love Is The Root Of Creation; God's Essence; Worlds Without Number Lie In His Bosom Like Children; He Made Them For This Purpose Only. Only To Love And To Be Loved Again.

There Are Things Of Which I May Not Speak; There Are Dreams That Cannot Die; There Are Thoughts That Make The Strong Heart Weak, And Bring A Pallor Into The Cheek, And A Mist Before The Eye.

The World Loves A Spice Of Wickedness.