They address an Eclipse every morning, whom they call their "Father."

Knew I how to pray, to intercede for your [broken] Foot were intuitive - but I am but a Pagan.

It might be lonelier Without the Loneliness - I’m so accustomed to my Fate - Perhaps the Other - Peace - Would interrupt the Dark - And crowd the little Room - Too scant - by Cubits - to contain The Sacrament - of Him - I am not used to Hope - It might intrude upon - Its sweet parade - blaspheme the place - Ordained to Suffering - It might be easier To fail - with Land in Sight - Than gain - My Blue Peninsula - To perish - of Delight -

I am out with lanterns, looking for myself.

in this short life that only lasts ah hour how much-how little-is within our power.

We meet no Stranger, but Ourself.

I have an appetite for silence.