Filled With Her Love, May I Be

Art Is The Most Passionate Orgy Within Man's Grasp.

Send Home My Long Strayed Eyes To Me, Which (oh) Too Long Have Dwelt On Thee.

No Man Is An Island, Entire Of Itself; Every Man Is A Piece Of The Continent, A Part Of The Main. If A Clod Be Washed Away By The Sea, Europe Is The Less, As Well As If A Promontory Were, As Well As If A Manor Of Thy Friend's Or Of Thine Own Were: Any Man's Death Diminishes Me, Because I Am Involved In Mankind, And Therefore Never Send To Know For Whom The Bells Tolls; It Tolls For Thee.

If Every Gnat That Flies Were An Archangel, All That Could But Tell Me That There Is A God; And The Poorest Worm That Creeps Tells Me That.

In Best Understandings, Sin Began, Angels Sinned First, Then Devils, And Then Man.