Let The Black Flower Blossom As It

In The Depths Of Every Heart There Is A Tomb And A Dungeon, Though The Lights, The Music, And The Revelry Above May Cause Us To Forget Their Existence.

By The Sympathy Of Your Human Hearts For Sin Ye Shall Scent Out All The Places — Whether In Church, Bedchamber, Street, Field, Or Forest — Where Crime Has Been Committed, And Shall Exult To Behold The Whole Earth One Stain Of Guilt, One Mighty Blood Spot.

I Find Nothing So Singular To Life As That Everything Appears To Lose Its Substance The Instant One Actually Grapples With It.

Mountains Are Earth's Undecaying Monuments.

A Man's Bewilderment Is The Measure Of His Wisdom.