Ecstasy Is A Glass Full Of Tea

A Deception That Elevates Us Is Dearer Than A Host Of Low Truths.

If You But Knew The Flames That Burn In Me Which I Attempt To Beat Down With My Reason.

I Loved You; Even Now I May Confess, Some Embers Of My Love Their Fire Retain; But Do Not Let It Cause You More Distress, I Do Not Want To Sadden You Again. Hopeless And Tongue Tied, Yet I Loved You Dearly With Pangs The Jealous And The Timid Know; So Tenderly I Loved You, So Sincerely, I Pray God Grant Another Love You So.

It's A Lucky Man, A Very Lucky Man, Who Is Committed To What He Believes, Who Has Stifled Intellectual Detachment And Can Relax In The Luxury Of His Emotions - Like A Tipsy Traveller Resting For The Night At Wayside Inn.

Better The Illusions That Exalt Us Than Ten Thousand Truths.