The Well Of True Wit

It Is The Devil's Masterstroke To Get Us To Accuse Him

A Kiss Is But A Kiss Now! And No Wave Of A Great Flood That Whirls Me To The Sea. But, As You Will! We'll Sit Contentedly, And Eat Our Pot Of Honey On The Grave.

Earth Knows No Desolation. She Smells Regeneration In The Moist Breath Of Decay.

The Stench Of The Trail Of Ego In Our History. It Is Ego - Ego, The Fountain Cry, Origin, Sole Source Of War.

Could I Find A Place To Be Alone With Heaven, I Would Speak My Heart Out Heaven Is My Need.