Ye Waves That O'er Th' Interminable Ocean

Do Not Kick Against The Pricks.

When We Sleep The Soul Is Lit Up... By Many Eyes, And With Them, We Can See Everything That We Cannot See In The Daytime.

But I Will Place This Carefully Fed Pig Within The Crackling Oven; And, I Pray, What Nicer Dish Can E'er Be Given To Man.

For Sufferers It Is Sweet To Know Before-hand Clearly The Pain That Still Remains For Them.

There Is No Pain So Great As The Memory Of Joy In Present Grief.