What We Love Once, We Love Forever.

Histories In Blazonry And Poems In Stone.

There Is No More Terrible Woe Upon Earth Than The Woe Of The Stricken Brain, Which Remembers The Days Of Its Strength, The Living Light Of Its Reason, The Sunrise Of Its Proud Intelligence, And Knows That These Have Passed Away Like A Tale That Is Told.

We Only See Clearly When We Have Reached The Depths Of Woe.

One Must Pray First, But Afterwards One Must Help Oneself. God Does Not Care For Cowards.

Flowers Belong To Fairyland: The Flowers And The Birds And The Butterflies Are All That The World Has Kept Of Its Golden Age--the Only Perfectly Beautiful Things On Earth--joyous, Innocent, Half Divine--useless, Say They Who Are Wiser Than God.