Silence Is True Wisdom's Best Reply.

There Is Something In The Pang Of Change More Than The Heart Can Bear, Unhappiness Remembering Happiness.

Stronger Than Lover's Love Is Lover's Hate. Incurable, In Each, The Wounds They Make.

This Is Slavery, Not To Speak One's Thought.

Evil Men By Their Own Nature Cannot Ever Prosper.

He Is Life's Liberating Force. He Is Release Of Limbs And Communion Through Dance. He Is Laughter, And Music In Flutes. He Is Repose From All Cares -- He Is Sleep! When His Blood Bursts From The Grape And Flows Across Tables Laid In His Honor To Fuse With Our Blood, He Gently, Gradually, Wraps Us In Shadows Of Ivy-cool Sleep.