I Am Clever Enough To Know That

To Live At All Is Miracle Enough.

It Was Not Certain What Significance The Ceremony Held... But The Formality Was No Less Sacred For It Being Unintelligible

The Earth Swirls Down Through The Ominous Moons Of Preconsidered Generations.

There Are Times When The Air That Floats Between Mortals Becomes, In Its Stillness And Silence, As Cruel As The Edge Of A Scythe.

There Is A Brotherhood Among The Kindly- Closer And Defter And More Integral- Than Any Of Aisle Or Coven- For Love Rang Out Before The Chapel Bell