Love Is Quivering Happiness.

Lovers Embrace That Which Is Between Them Rather Than Each Other.

Even As The Holy And The Righteous Cannot Rise Beyond The Highest Which Is In Each One Of You, So The Wicked And The Weak Cannot Fall Lower Than The Lowest Which Is In You Also.

The Highest Virtue Here May Be Least In Another World.

Prayer Is The Song Of The Heart. It Reaches The Ear Of God Even If It Is Mingled With The Cry And The Tumult Of A Thousand Men.

Thus With My Lips Have I Denounced You, While My Heart, Bleeding Within Me, Called You Tender Names. It Was Love Lashed By Its Own Self That Spoke. It Was Pride Half Slain That Fluttered In The Dust. It Was My Hunger For Your Love That Raged From The Housetop, While My Own Love, Kneeling In Silence, Prayed Your Forgiveness.