Abandon Hope, All Ye Who Enter Here.

We Have No Hope And Yet We Live In Longing.

You Shall Find Out How Salt Is The Taste Of Another Man's Bread, And How Hard Is The Way Up And Down Another Man's Stairs.

As Flowerlets Drooped And Puckered In The Night Turn Up To The Returning Sun And Spread Their Petals Wide On His New Warmth And Light-just So My Wilted Spirits Rose Again And Such A Heat Of Zeal Surged Through My Veins That I Was Born Anew.

In Judgement Be Ye Not Too Confident, Even As A Man Who Will Appraise His Corn When Standing In A Field, Ere It Is Ripe.

Mankind Is At Its Best When It Is Most Free.