The Doors Of Heaven And Hell Are

A Slave's Soul Has No Worth, My Brothers; It Lacks Strength To Tread On This Great Earth With Gallantry And Freedom. I Pity The Poor Slaves, They're Nought But Airy Mist, A Light Breeze Scatters Them, A Fragrance Knocks Them Down; It's Only Just They Crawl On The Earth On Hands And Knees. Today I'll Write A Hymn To God And Pray For This Great Grace.

This Book Was Not Written Because I Wanted To Offer A Supreme Model To The Man Who Struggles; I Wanted To Show Him That He Must Not Fear Pain, Temptation Or Death - Because All Three Can Be Conquered, All Three Have Already Been Conquered. Christ Suffered Pain, And Since Then Pain Has Been Sanctified. Temptation Fought Until The Very Last Moment To Lead Him Astray, And Temptation Was Defeated. Christ Died On The Cross, And At That Instant Death Was Vanquished Forever.

A Person Needs A Little Madness, Or Else They Never Dare Cut The Rope And Be Free.

I Felt This Was My Duty, My Sole Duty: To Reconcile The Irreconcilables, To Draw The Thick Ancestral Darkness Out Of My Loins And Transform It, To The Best Of My Ability, Into Light.

You Can Knock On A Deaf Man's Door Forever.