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.
Mankind is at its best when it is most free.
Love insists the loved loves back
Where the way is hardest, there go thou; Follow your own path and let people talk.
At grief so deep the tongue must wag in vain; the language of our sense and memory lacks the vocabulary of such pain.
Reason flies When following the senses, on clipped wings.