Here Let Dead Poetry Rise Once More

Here Pity Only Lives When It Is Dead - Virgil

Love Kindled By Virtue Always Kindles Another, Provided That Its Flame Appear Outwardly.

Remember Tonight... For It Is The Beginning Of Always.

Pure Essence, And Pure Matter, And The Two Joined Into One Were Shot Forth Without Flaw, Like Three Bright Arrows From A Three-string Bow.

The Infernal Storm, Eternal In Its Rage, Sweeps And Drives The Spirits With Its Blast; It Whirls Them, Lashing Them With Punishment. When They Are Swept Back Past Their Place Of Judgment Then Come The Shrieks, Laments, And Anguished Cries; There They Blaspheme God's Almighty Power.