Before me things created were none, save things Eternal, and eternal I endure. All hope abandon, ye who enter here.

This sorrow weighs upon the melancholy souls of those who lived without infamy or praise.

You shall find out how salt is the taste of another man's bread, and how hard is the way up and down another man's stairs.

A rapid bolt will rend the clouds apart, and every single White be seared by wounds. I tell you this. I want it all to hurt.

If your world isn't right, the cause is in you.

Now you know how much my love for you burns deep in me when I forget about our emptiness, and deal with shadows as with solid things.

Midway upon the journey of our life