What Hath Night To Do With Sleep?

Freely We Serve, Because Freely We Love.

Biochemically, Love Is Just Like Eating Large Amounts Of Chocolate.

Bacchus, That First From Out The Purple Grape Crush'd The Sweet Poison Of Misused Wine.

O Fairest Flower! No Sooner Blown But Blasted, Soft Silken Primrose Fading Timelessly.

And If By Prayer Incessant I Could Hope To Change The Will Of Him Who All Things Can, I Would Not Cease To Weary Him With My Assiduous Cries.