I am part of the load not rightly balanced . . .

When you resolve to become pious, the devil in your nature cries out at you, "Tread not those paths, O confused one; distress and poverty will overcome you. You will be despised, let down by friends, you will regret it." Dread of the devil has bound their souls; the cries of the devil are the drover of the damned; the call of the Lord is a guardian of the saints.

We all face death in the end. But on the way, be careful never to hurt a human heart!

As you start to walk on the way, the way appears.

If you don't try to fly and so break yourself apart, you will be broken open by death, when it's too late for all you could become.

A lover knows only humility, he has no choice. He steals into your alley at night, he has no choice. He longs to kiss every lock of your hair, don't fret, he has no choice. In his frenzied love for you, he longs to break the chains of his imprisonment, he has no choice.

Your hand opens and closes and opens and closes. If it were always a fist or always stretched open, you would be paralyzed.