Every Believer Is God's Miracle.

True Faith Nor Biddeth Nor Abideth Form, The Bended Knee, The Eye Uplift; Is All Which Men Need Render; All Which God Can Bear. What To The Faith Are Forms? A Passing Speck, A Crow Upon The Sky.

Doubt Is The Shadow Of Truth.

The Wind Breathes Not, And The Wave Walks Softly As Above A Grave.

Youth Might Be Wise; We Suffer Less From Pains Than Pleasures.

Ah, Nothing Comes To Us Too Soon But Sorrow.