Love has the power that dispels death; charm that conquers the enemy.

The snow and the storm destroy the flower; but its seed they cannot kill.

Love prides itself not only in the one who loves, but also in the beloved.

Let your bending in the Archer's hand be for gladness, for even as he loves the arrow that flies, so he loves also the bow that is stable.

Let your home be you mast and not your anchor.

Yea, death and prison we mete out To small offenders of the laws, While honor, wealth, and full respect On greater pirates we bestow. To steal a flower we call mean. To rob a field is chivalry; Who kills the body he must die, Who kills the spirit he goes free.

He who loses his mother loses a pure soul who blesses and guards him constantly.