Our way is where God knows And Love knows where: We are in Love's hand to-day. - Algernon Charles Swinburne

To wipe off the froth of falsehood from the foaming lips of inebriated virtue, when fresh from the sexless orgies of morality and reeling from the delirious riot of religion, may doubtless be a charitable office.

For till thunder in the trumoet be, Soul may divide from body but not we One from another

From too much love of living,
From hope and fear set free,
We thank with brief thanksgiving
Whatever gods may be
That no life lives forever;
That dead men rise up never;
That even the weariest river
Winds somewhere safe to sea.