Any Nose May Ravage With Impunity A

He Guides Me And The Bird. In His Good Time!

This Could But Have Happened Once,- And We Missed It, Lost It Forever.

We Shall March Prospering,-not Thro' His Presence; Songs May Inspirit Us,-not From His Lyre; Deeds Will Be Done,-while He Boasts His Quiescence, Still Bidding Crouch Whom The Rest Bade Aspire.

Love Is The Energy Of Life.

There Is Nothing So Unpardonable As To Consent To A Senseless, Aimless, Purposeless Life.