Hate Is A Dead Thing. Who Of

And Is Not The Lute That Soothes Your Spirit The Very Wood That Was Hollowed With Knives?

You Shall Be Free Indeed When Your Days Are Not Without A Care, Nor Your Nights Without A Want And A Grief, But Rather When These Things Girdle Your Life And Yet You Rise Above Them Naked And Unbound.

Darkness Is Dawn Not Yet Born.

Your Life Is An Island Separated From All Other Islands And Continents. Regardless Of How Many Boats You Send To Other Shores Or How Many Ships Arrive Upon Your Shores, You Yourself Are An Island Separated By Its Own Pains, Secluded In Its Happiness

Love Provided Me With A Tongue And Tears.