Let Us Think Less Of Men And

Mind And Night Will Meet, Though In Silence, Like Forbidden Lovers.

I Run The Gauntlet Of A File Of Doubts, Each One Of Which Down Hurls Me To The Ground.

Every Believer Is God's Miracle.

The Wind Breathes Not, And The Wave Walks Softly As Above A Grave.

Hell Is More Bearable Than Nothingness.