Kind Pity Chokes My Spleen.

Ask Not For Whom The Bell Tolls; It Tolls For Thee

What Gnashing Is Not A Comfort, What Gnawing Of The Worm Is Not A Tickling, What Torment Is Not A Marriage Bed To This Damnation, To Be Secluded Eternally, Eternally, Eternally From The Sight Of God?

I Am Two Fools, I Know, For Loving, And For Saying So.

God Affords No Man The Comfort, The False Comfort Of Atheism: He Will Not Allow A Pretending Atheist The Power To Flatter Himself, So Far, As To Seriously Think There Is No God.

We Give Each Other A Smile With A Future In It