But a prayer that he sends from his heart's deep core.

Poor conceited humanity! Interpreters of God indeed.

..we wear the mask that grins and lies, it hides our cheeks and shades our eyes- this debt we pay to human guile; with torn and bleeding hearts we smile.

This, this indeed is to be accursed, For if we mortals love, or if we sing, We count our joys not by what we have, But by what kept us from that perfect thing.

Slight was the thing I bought, small was the debt I thought, Poor was the loan at best - God! but the interest!

But a prayer that he sends from his heart's deep core.

All play and no work makes Jack a mere toy.