In His Will, Our Peace.

It Is Necessity And Not Pleasure That Compels Us.

A Man's Renown Is Like The Hue Of Grass, Which Comes And Goes.

From There We Came Outside And Saw The Stars

Here Pity Only Lives When It Is Dead - Virgil

I Felt For The Tormented Whirlwinds Damned For Their Carnal Sins Committed When They Let Their Passions Rule Their Reason.