If Your World Isn't Right, The Cause

So May Heaven's Grace Clear Away The Foam From The Conscience, That The River Of Thy Thoughts May Roll Limpid Thenceforth.

This Mountain Is So Formed That It Is Always Wearisome When One Begins The Ascent, But Becomes Easier The Higher One Climbs.

He Who Know Most Grieves Most For Wasted Time.

Into The Eternal Darkness, Into Fire And Into Ice.

Reason Flies When Following The Senses, On Clipped Wings.