Naught But God Can Satisfy The Soul.

How Slight A Chance May Raise Or Sink A Soul!

O, There Is Naught On Earth Worth Being Known But God And Our Own Souls!

Poetry Is Itself A Thing Of God; He Made His Prophets Poets; And The More We Feel Of Poesie Do We Become Like God In Love And Power,-under-makers.

Not A Single Path Of Thought I Tread, But That It Leads To God.

Evil Then Results From Imperfection.