All of nature is God's art.

How come I never meet any nice girls?

Oh foolish desires of mortals! How weak are the reasons that lead us to not take off our flight from the ground.

Infinite goodness has such wide arms.

But the stars that marked our starting fall away. We must go deeper into greater pain, for it is not permitted that we stay.

No man may be so cursed by priest or pope but what the Eternal Love may still return while any thread of green lives on in hope.

Reason flies When following the senses, on clipped wings.