Perhaps This Is The Only

It's An Awful Truth That Suffering Can Deepen Us, Give A Greater Lustre To Our Colours, A Richer Resonance To Our Words.

In The Chapel You Prayed To Be A Saint And Now I Will Make You A God.

I Am An Unwilling Devil. I Cry Like Some Vagrant Child. I Want To Go Home.

An Intoxication With Forbidden Knowledge In Which The Natural Things Become Unimportant.

Your Love To Others, And Their Love For You, That The Increase Of Love In Life Itself Around You, Is What Matters.