From A Little Spark May Burst A

Perceive Ye Not That We Are Worms, Designed To Form The Angelic Butterfly, That Goes To Judgment, Leaving All Defence Behind? Why Doth Your Mind Take Such Exalted Pose, Since Ye, Disabled, Are As Insects, Mean As Worm Which Never Transformation Knows?

Many Have Justice In Their Hearts, But Slowly It Is Let Fly, For It Comes Not Without Council To The Bow.

Doubting Charms Me Not Less Than Knowledge.

Do Not Be Afraid; Our Fate Cannot Be Taken From Us; It Is A Gift.

I Saw A Point That Shone With Light So Keen, The Eye That Sees It Cannot Bear Its Blazing; The Star That Is For Us The Smallest One Would Seem A Moon If Placed Beside This Point.