Friendship Is Born From An

We Are Prudent People. We Are Afraid To Let Go Of Our Petty Reality In Order To Grasp At A Great Shadow.

Defeat May Prove To Have Been The Only Path To Resurrection, Despite Its Ugliness.

He Who Bears In His Heart A Cathedral To Be Built Is Already Victorious. He Who Seeks To Become Sexton Of A Finished Cathedral Is Already Defeated.

Love, Like A Carefully Loaded Ship, Crosses The Gulf Between The Generations.

He Who Has Gone, So We But Cherish His Memory, Abides With Us, More Potent, Nay, More Present Than The Living Man.