Mere Elegance Of Language Can Produce At

Suspicion Is The Cancer Of Friendship.

I Saw The Tracks Of Angels In The Earth: The Beauty Of Heaven Walking By Itself On The World.

For Though I Am A Body Of This Earth, My Firm Desire Is Born From The Stars.

And I Live On, But In Grief And Self-contempt, Left Here Without The Light I Loved So Much, In A Great Tempest And With Shrouds Unkempt.

Books Have Led Some To Learning And Others To Madness.