He Who Does Not Prefer

My Friend, I Am Not What I Seem. Seeming Is But A Garment I Wear — A Care-woven Garment That Protects Me From Thy Questionings And Thee From My Negligence. The "i" In Me, My Friend, Dwells In The House Of Silence, And Therein It Shall Remain For Ever More, Unperceived, Unapproachable.

He Who Requires Urging To Do A Noble Act Will Never Accomplish It.

Oh, Lord God, Have Mercy On Me And Mend My Broken Wings.

In The Depths Of Your Hopes And Desires, Lies Your Silent Knowledge Of The Beyond, And Like Seeds Dreaming Beneath The Snow, Your Heart Dreams Of Spring. Trust The Dreams, For In Them Is Hidden The Gate To Eternity.

The Sorrowful Spirit Finds Relaxation In Solitude. It Abhors People, As A Wounded Deer Deserts The Herd And Lives In A Cave Until It Is Healed Or Dead.