Love Alone Can Explain The Mysteries Of

You Are A Fountain Of The Sun's Light. I Am A Willow Shadow On The Ground. You Make My Raggedness Silky.

Your Depression Is Connected To Your Insolence And Refusal To Praise.

When You Resolve To Become Pious, The Devil In Your Nature Cries Out At You, "tread Not Those Paths, O Confused One; Distress And Poverty Will Overcome You. You Will Be Despised, Let Down By Friends, You Will Regret It." Dread Of The Devil Has Bound Their Souls; The Cries Of The Devil Are The Drover Of The Damned; The Call Of The Lord Is A Guardian Of The Saints.

We Owe Thankfulness To God, Not Sour Faces.

For Sixty Years I Have Been Forgetful Every Minute, But Not For A Second Has This Flowing Toward Me Stopped Or Slowed.