He Who Loses His Mother Loses A

Beauty Shall Rise With The Dawn From The East.

Make Me, Oh God, The Prey Of The Lion, Ere You Make The Rabbit My Prey

Is Not The Beautiful Moon, That Inspires Poets, The Same Moon Which Angers The Silence Of The Sea With A Terrible Roar?

Let There Be No Purpose In Friendship Save The Deepening Of The Spirit.

When Life Does Not Find A Singer To Sing Her Heart She Produces A Philosopher To Speak Her Mind.