To Rage, To Lust, To Write To,

Great Sorrows Cannot Speak.

More Than Kisses, Letters Mingle Souls.

Batter My Heart, Three-personed God, For You As Yet But Knock; Breathe, Shine, And Seek To Mend; That I May Rise, And Stand, O'erthrow Me, And Bend Your Force To Break, Blow, Burn, And Make Me New.

Between Cowardice And Despair, Valour Is Gendred.

Good Is Not Good, Unless A Thousand It Possess, But Doth Waste With Greediness.