All Things Must; Man Is The Only

Not He Who Scorns The Saviour's Yoke Should Wear His Cross Upon The Heart.

The Moor Has Done His Work, The Moor May Go.

The Joke Loses Everything When The Joker Laughs Himself.

The Empire Of Saturnus Is Gone By; Lord Of The Secret Birth Of Things Is He; Within The Lap Of Earth, And In The Depths Of The Imagination Dominates; And His Are All Things That Eschew The Light. The Time Is O'er Of Brooding And Contrivance, For Jupiter, The Lustrous, Lordeth Now, And The Dark Work, Complete Of Preparation, He Draws By Force Into The Realm Of Light. Now Must We Hasten On To Action, Ere The Scheme, And Most Auspicious Positure Parts O'er My Head, And Takes Once More Its Flight, For The Heavens Journey Still, And Adjourn Not.

Grace Is The Beauty Of Form Under The Influence Of Freedom.