He who does not bellow the truth when he knows the truth makes himself the accomplice of liars and forgers...

The sinner is at the heart of Christianity...
No one is as competent as the sinner in
matter of Christianity...
No one, except a saint...

His golden locks time hath to silver turned;
O time too swift, O swiftness never ceasing !
His youth` gainst time and age hath ever spurned
But, spurned in vain; youth waneth  by increasing:
Beauty, strength, youth, are flowers but fading seen;
Duty, faith, love, are roots, and ever green.

His helmet now shall make a hive for bees,
and, lovers` sonnets turned to holy psalms,
A man-at- arms must now serve on his knees,
And feed on prayers, which are age his alms:
But though from court to cottage he depart,
His saint is sure of his unspotted heart...

Goddess, allow this aged man his right,
To be your beadsman now that was your knight.


O` what a river !
O` what a time !
O` unforgettable !

What thing is love for, love is a thing...
It is a prick, it is a sting,
It is a pretty, pretty thing;
It is a fire, it is a coal
Whose flame creeps in at every hole...