There is no caste in blood.
Within yourself deliverance must be searched for, because each man makes hiw own prison.
A little rain will fill The lily's cup which hardly moistens the field.
Early violets blue and white Dying for their love of light.
Shall any gazer see with mortal eyes, Or any searcher know by mortal mind; Veil upon veil will lift but there must be Veil upon veil behind.
Not a piece of architecture, as other buildings are, but the proud passions of an emperor's love wrought in living stones.