The Crime, from us, is hidden, [though] he is presumed to know.
Love is everything. And that's all we know about it.
I do not feel I could give up all for Christ, were I called to die.
The power to console is not within corporeal reach - though its attempt is precious.
Until you have loved, you cannot become yourself.
Some Arrows slay but whom they strike - But this slew all but him - Who so appareled his Escape - Too trackless for a Tomb