Love Is Quivering Happiness.

Your Reason And Your Passion Are Your Rudder And Sails Of Your Seafaring Soul, If Either Your Sails Or Your Rudder Be Broken, You Can But Toss And Drift, Or Else Be Held At A Standstill In Mid-seas. For Reason, Ruling Alone, Is A Force Confining; And Passion, Unattended, Is A Flame That Burns To Its Own Destruction.

How Narrow Is The Vision That Exalts The Busyness Of The Ant Above The Singing Of The Grasshopper.

You Often Say, "i Would Give, But Only To The Deserving." The Trees In Your Orchard Say Not So, Nor The Flocks In Your Pasture. They Give That They May Live, For To Withhold Is To Perish.

Death Changes Nothing But The Mask That Covers Our Faces.

Defeat, My Defeat, My Deathless Courage, You And I Shall Laugh Together With The Storm, And Together We Shall Dig Graves For All That Die In Us, And We Shall Stand In The Sun With A Will, And We Shall Be Dangerous