We love against the night, burning like stars against the darkness of bread and circuses.

All bowmen are caught between heaven and earth, born to discovery, choosing to love and raise their eyes high to a future that is apparent only through the strength of their hope.

For in the sorrow, there is also our happiness.

Heroes do not dwell in a time of peace; heroes are hardened in a kiln against the sorrows. Their troubles sharpen the blade and make it gleaming. The glint becomes a brightness that is raised high on a hill, allowing women and men to see beyond themselves. For light swallows darkness. Truth buries death. Heroes are not born. They are filled by Music.

Though we cannot see the heart, we can see the life.

Look in every city or any town. Travel by foot, or train or plane. Do not settle until there is love. For there, there will be the address of your happiness.

The marriage bond is more than a civil contract. It is a reward for loving well.