Every Believer Is God's Miracle.

Burn To Be Great, Pay Not Thy Praise To Lofty Things Alone. The Plains Are Everlasting As The Hills, The Bard Cannot Have Two Pursuits; Aught Else Comes On The Mind With The Like Shock As Though Two Worlds Had Gone To War, And Met In Air.

Night Brings Out Stars As Sorrow Shows Us Truths.

The Truth Of Truths Is Love.

Youth Might Be Wise; We Suffer Less From Pains Than Pleasures.

The Wind Breathes Not, And The Wave Walks Softly As Above A Grave.