Every Mortal Loss Is An

Every Night And Every Morn Some To Misery Are Born. Every Morn And Every Night Some Are Born To Sweet Delight, Some Are Born To Endless Night.

It Is Not Because Angels Are Holier Than Men Or Devils That Makes Them Angels, But Because They Do Not Expect Holiness From One Another, But From God Only.

The Apple Tree Never Asks The Beech How He Shall Grow, Nor The Lion, The Horse, How He Shall Take His Prey.

Joys Impregnate. Sorrows Bring Forth.

Desperate Remorse Swallows The Present In A Quenchless Rage.