You are good when you are fully awake in your speech.

The Beauty of Death.

Each and every one of us, dear Mary, must have a resting place somewhere. The resting place of my soul is a beautiful grove where my knowledge of you lives.

Hate is a dead thing. Who of you would be a tomb?

The Infinite keeps naught save Love, for it is in its own likeness.

Many a doctrine is like a window pane. We see truth through it but it divides us from truth.

And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures.