Love Is The Master Key That Opens

The Sound Of A Kiss Is Not So Loud As That Of A Cannon, But Its Echo Lasts A Great Deal Longer.

Without Wearing Any Mask We Are Conscious Of, We Have A Special Face For Each Friend.

Our Brains Are Seventy-year Clocks. The Angel Of Life Winds Them Up Once For All, Then Closes The Case, And Gives The Key Into The Hand Of The Angel Of The Resurrection.

The Best Servant Does His Work Unseen.

We Call Those Poets Who Are First To Mark, Through Earth's Dull Mist The Coming Of The Dawn, Who See In Twilight's Gloom The First Pale Spark, While Others Only Note That Day Is Gone.