The Nunneries Of Silent Nooks, The Murmured

Those Who Love Are But One Step From Heaven.

What Men Call Luck Is The Prerogative Of Valiant Souls, The Fealty Life Pays Its Rightful Kings.

Poetry Is Something To Make Us Wiser And Better, By Continually Revealing Those Types Of Beauty And Truth, Which God Has Set In All Men's Souls.

Tyranny Is Always Weakness

The Future Works Out Great Men's Destinies; The Present Is Enough For Common Souls, Who, Never Looking Forward, Are Indeed Mere Clay Wherein The Footprints Of Their Age Are Petrified Forever.