You Throw The Sand Against The Wind

The Cut Worm Forgives The Plow.

Every Harlot Was A Virgin Once.

Everything To Be Imagined Is An Image Of Truth.

Dear Mother, Dear Mother, The Church Is Cold, But The Ale-house Is Healthy And Pleasant And Warm.

Never Seek To Tell Thy Love; Love That Never Told Can Be. For The Gentle Wind Does Move Silently.. Invisibly.