Love and the gentle heart are but the same thing.
Pure essence, and pure matter, and the two joined into one were shot forth without flaw, like three bright arrows from a three-string bow.
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.
Fate's arrow, when expected, travels slow.
A prayer may chance to rise From one whose heart lives in the grace of God. A prayer from any other is unheeded.