We Die Daily. Happy Those Who Daily

Love Loves Unto Purity. Love Has Ever In View The Absolute Loveliness Of That Which It Beholds. Therefore All That Is Not Beautiful In The Beloved, All That Comes Between And Is Not Of Love's Kind, Must Be Destroyed. And Our God Is A Consuming Fire.

As In All Sweetest Music, A Tinge Of Sadness Was In Every Note. Nor Do We Know How Much Of The Pleasures Even Of Life We Owe To The Intermingled Sorrows. Joy Cannot Unfold The Deepest Truths, Although Deepest Truth Must Be Deepest Joy.

Love Is The Opener As Well As Closer Of Eyes.

Books Are But Dead Bodies To You, And A Library Nothing But A Catacomb!

The Love Of Our Neighbor Is The Only Door Out Of The Dungeon Of Self.