I Have A Rendezvous With Life.

I Cut My Teeth As The Black Raccoon-- For Implements Of Battle.

The Loss Of Love Is A Terrible Thing; They Lie Who Say That Death Is Worse.

For We Must Be One Thing Or The Other, An Asset Or A Liability, The Sinew In Your Wing To Help You Soar, Or The Chain To Bind You To Earth.

We Were Not Made To Eternally Weep.

Not For Myself I Make This Prayer, But For This Race Of Mine That Stretches Forth From Shadowed Places Dark Hands For Bread And Wine.