It Is Human To Err, But It

I Have Said Before, And I Shall Say Again, That I Write This Book For Love Of Your Love.

He That Loveth Little Prayeth Little, He That Loveth Much Prayeth Much.

For What Is Faith Unless It Is To Believe What You Do Not See?

In My Unloveliness I Plunged Into The Lovely Things Which You Created. You Were With Me, But I Was Not With You. Created Things Kept Me From You; Yet If They Had Not Been In You, They Would Have Not Been At All.

The Argument Is At An End.