Justice Does Not Descend From Its Own

In His Will, Our Peace.

The Path To Paradise Begins In Hell.

Consider The Sea's Listless Chime: Time's Self It Is, Made Audible.

As, Pricked Out With Less And Greater Lights, Between The Poles Of The Universe, The Milky Way So Gleameth White As To Set Very Sages Questioning.

And As He, Who With Laboring Breath Has Escaped From The Deep To The Shore, Turns To The Perilous Waters And Gazes.