My Heart Was Beating Like An Army

Until I Have Been Able To Bury My Head So Deep In Dear London That I Can Forget That I Have Ever Been Away I Am Inconsolable.

I Daresay Anything Can Be Made Holy By Being Sincerely Worshipped.

... He Felt Himself To Be One Of Them, Who Can Live Neither In The World Nor Out Of It. They Are A Kind Of Sick People, Whose Desire For God Makes Them Unsatisfactory Citizens Of An Ordinary Life, But Whose Strength Or Temperament Fails Them To Surrender The World Completely; And Present-day Society, With Its Hurried Pace And Its Mechanical And Technical Structure, Offers No Home To These Unhappy Souls.

We Are All Prisoner, But The Name Of Our Cure Is Not Freedom

Daytime Sleep Is A Cursed Slumber From Which One Wakes In Despair.