If You're Asking For A

If You Give People Light, They Will Find Their Own Way.

Those Ancients Who In Poetry Presented The Golden Age, Who Sang Its Happy State, Perhaps, In Their Parnassus, Dreamt This Place. Here, Mankind's Root Was Innocent; And Here Were Every Fruit And Never-ending Spring; These Streams--the Nectar Of Which Poets Sing.

I Made My Own House Be My Gallows.

Will Cannot Be Quenched Against Its Will.

Segui Il Tuo Corso Et Lascia Dir Les Genti. (follow Your Road And Let The People Say).