The Wound Of Peace Is

So They Loved As Love In Twain Had The Essence But In One; Two Distinct, Divisions None.

Give Me That Man That Is Not Passion's Slave, And I Will Wear Him In My Heart's Core, In My Heart Of Heart, As I Do Thee.

All That Glitters Is Not Gold.

As You Are Old And Reverend, You Should Be Wise.

I Hold It Cowardice To Rest Mistrustful Where A Noble Heart Hath Pawned An Open Hand In Sign Of Love.