There Is In Every Miracle A Silent

At The Round Earth's Imagined Corners, Blow Your Trumpets, Angels.

A Mathematical Point Is The Most Indivisble And Unique Thing Which Art Can Present.

All Kings, And All Their Favorites, All Glory Of Honors, Beauties, Wits, The Sun Itself, Which Makes Times, As They Pass, Is Elder By A Year, Now, Than It Was When Thou And I First One Another Saw: All Other Things, To Their Destruction Draw, Only Our Love Hath No Decay; This, No Tomorrow Hash, Nor Yesterday, Running, It Never Runs From Us Away, But Truly Keeps His First, Last, Everlasting Day.

Affliction Is A Treasure, And Scarce Any Man Hath Enough Of It.

God Is So Omnipresent. . . . God Is An Angel In An Angel, And A Stone In A Stone, And A Straw In A Straw.