And These Are Joys, Like Beauty, But

Corruption Springs From Light: 'tis One Same Power Creates, Preserves, Destroys; Matter Whereon It Works, On E'er Self-transmutative Form, Common To Now The Living, Now The Dead.

Necessity, Like Electricity, Is In Ourselves And All Things, And No More Without Us Than Within Us.

Surely The Stars Are Images Of Love.

He Hath No Power That Hath Not Power To Use.

None But God Can Fill The Perfect Whole.