But If, As Morning Rises, Dreams Are

Three Things Remain With Us From Paradise: Stars, Flowers And Children.

The More Souls Who Resonate Together, The Greater The Intensity Of Their Love... And, Mirror-like... Each Soul Reflects The Other.

O Faithful Conscience, Delicately Pure, How Doth A Little Failing Wound Thee Sore!

Open Your Mind To What I Shall Disclose, And Hold It Fast Within You; He Who Hears, But Does Not Hold What He Has Heard, Learns Nothing. Beatrice - Canto V 40-42

A Rapid Bolt Will Rend The Clouds Apart, And Every Single White Be Seared By Wounds. I Tell You This. I Want It All To Hurt.