Joys Impregnate. Sorrows Bring Forth.

I Am In You And You In Me, Mutual In Divine Love.

Grown Old In Love From Seven Till Seven Times Seven,i Oft Have Wished For Hell For Ease From Heaven.

The Moon, Like A Flower In Heaven's High Bower, With Silent Delight Sits And Smiles On The Night.

Innate Ideas Are In Every Man, Born With Him; They Are Truly Himself. The Man Who Says That We Have No Innate Ideas Must Be A Fool And Knave, Having No Conscience Or Innate Science.

There Is A Smile Of Love, And There Is A Smile Of Deceit, And There Is A Smile Of Smiles In Which These Two Smiles Meet.