The Believer Is Happy. The Doubter Is

In Efforts To Soar Above Our Nature, We Invariably Fall Below It.

Even With The Utterly Lost, To Whom Life And Death Are Equally Jests, There Are Matters Of Which No Jest Can Be Made.

Lord Help My Poor Soul.

He Must Be Theory-mad Beyond Redemption Who ... Shall ... Persist In Attempting To Reconcile The Obstinate Oils And Waters Of Poetry And Truth.

Let My Heart Be Still A Moment And This Mystery Explore.