Your House Shall Be Not An Anchor

Your Joy Is Your Sorrow Unmasked. And The Same Well From Which Your Laughter Rises Was Oftentimes Filled With Your Tears. And How Else Can It Be? The Deeper That Sorrow Carves Into Your Being, The More Joy You Can Contain. Is Not The Cup That Holds Your Wine The Very Cup That Was Burned In The Potter's Oven? And Is Not The Lute That Soothes Your Spirit, The Very Wood That Was Hollowed With Knives?

Wisdom Stands At The Turn In The Road And Calls Upon Us Publicly, But We Consider It False And Despise Its Adherents.

Love Possesses Not Nor Will It Be Possessed, For Love Is Sufficient Unto Love.

Rest In Reason. Move In Passion.

Doubt Is A Pain Too Lonely To Know That Faith Is His Twin Brother. Doubt Is A Foundling Unhappy And Astray, And Though His Own Mother Who Gave Him Birth Should Find Him And Enfold Him, He Would Withdraw In Caution And In Fear.