Love, Who Insists That Love

O How Far Remov'd, Predestination! Is Thy Foot From Such As See Not The First Cause Entire: And Ye, O Mortal Men! Be Wary How Ye Judge: For We, Who See The Maker, Know Not Yet The Number Of The Chosen; And Esteem Such Scantiness Of Knowledge Our Delight: For All Good Is, In That Primal Good, Concentrate; And God's Will And Ours Are One.

Go Forth And Preach Impostures To The World, But Give Them Truth To Build On.

All Hope Abandon, Ye Who Enter Here!

The Man Who Lies Asleep Will Never Waken Fame.

How Come I Never Meet Any Nice Girls?