Ancestral Voices Prophesying War.

Day After Day, Day After Day, We Stuck, Nor Breath Nor Motion; As Idle As A Painted Ship Upon A Painted Ocean.

Oh Sleep! It Is A Gentle Thing, Beloved From Pole To Pole, To Mary Queen The Praise Be Given! She Sent The Gentle Sleep From Heaven, That Slid Into My Soul.

Nothing Great Was Ever Achieved Without Enthusiasm. For What Is Enthusiasm But The Oblivion And Swallowing-up Of Self In An Object Dearer Than Self?

History Has A Point Of View; It Cannot Be All Things To All People.

Too Soon Did The Doctors Of The Church Forget That The Heart--the Moral Nature--was The Beginning And The End, And That Truth, Knowledge, And Insight Were Comprehended In Its Expansion.