Struggling In My Father's Hands,

Mans Desires Are Limited By His Perceptions; None Can Desire What He Has Not Perceived.

Death Is Terrible, Tho' Borne On Angels' Wings!

The Goddess Fortune Is The Devil's Servant, Ready To Kiss Any One's Ass.

I Am More Famed In Heaven For My Works Than I Could Well Conceive. In My Brain Are Studies & Chambers Filled With Books & Pictures Of Old, Which I Wrote And Painted In Ages Of Eternity Before My Mortal Life; And Whose Works Are The Delight & Study Of Archangels. Why, Then, Should I Be Anxious About The Riches Or Fame Of Mortality?

Love Seeketh Not Itself To Please, Nor For Itself Hath Any Care, But For Another Gives Its Ease, And Builds A Heaven In Hell's Despair.