Christ Beats His Drum, But

No Spring Nor Summer Beauty Hath Such Grace As I Have Seen In One Autumnal Face.

There Is In Every Miracle A Silent Chiding Of The World, And A Tacit Reprehension Of Them Who Require, Or Who Need Miracles.

That Which Attempts To Elevate The Ugly To The Level Of Beauty Becomes Neither; But An Obscenity.

Take Me To You, Imprison Me, For I, Except You Enthrall Me, Never Shall Be Free, Nor Ever Chaste, Except You Ravish Me.

Despair Is The Damp Of Hell, As Joy Is The Serenity Of Heaven.