The Faith That Acts Not, Is It

Hell, Covering All With Its Gloomy Vapors, Has Cast Shadows On Even The Holiest Eyes.

My Only Hope Lies In My Despair.

It's No Longer A Warmth Hidden In My Veins: It's Venus Entire And Whole Fastening On Her Prey.

Vice, Like Virtue, Grows In Small Steps, And No True Innocence Can Ever Fall At Once To Deepest Guilt.

I Can Hear Those Glances That You Think Are Silent.