The Quivering Of Psyche's Butterflies.

Dead Men Would Start And Move Toward Me To Learn Of Love.

Ah Love Is Bitter And Sweet, But Which Is More Sweet The Bitterness Or The Sweetness, None Has Spoken It.

Escape From The Power Of The Hunting Pack, And To Know That Wisdom Is Best And Beauty Sheer Holiness.

Lovers May Come And Go, There Was The Memory Of Blood, The Low Call.

It Is No Madness To Say You Will Fall, You Great Cities.