If The Flame Inside You Goes Out,

Doubt Is Nothing But A Trivial Agitation On The Surface Of The Soul, While Deep Down There Is A Calm Certainty.

Where Does Discipline End? Where Does Cruelty Begin? Somewhere Between These, Thousands Of Children Inhabit A Voiceless Hell.

The Grandeur Of Man Lies In Song, Not In Thought.

A Good Critic Is The Sorcerer Who Makes Some Hidden Spring Gush Forth Unexpectedly Under Our Feet.

The Temples Of Those Who Deny The Real Presence Are Like Corpses. The Lord Was Taken Away And We Do Not Know Where They Have Laid Him.