Commit The Oldest Sins The Newest Kind

Quote: What Angel Wakes Me From My Flowery Bed?

The Setting Sun, And The Music At The Close, As The Last Taste Of Sweets, Is Sweetest Last, Writ In Rememberance More Than Long Things Past.

Things Won Are Done, Joy's Soul Lies In The Doing.

I Will Despair, And Be At Enmity With Cozening Hope.

Against Self-slaughter There Is A Prohibition So Divine That Cravens My Weak Hand.