Well, I see no reason to persevere, no reason to laugh or shed a tear, no reason to sleep or ever to wake, no promises to keep, and none to make. U nder the winter moon's pale light, across the cold and starry night, from snowy mountains soaring high to ocean shores echoes the cry. From barren sands to verdant fields, from city street to lonely wealds, cries the tortured human heart, seeking solace, wisdom, a chart by which to understand its plight under the winter moon's pale light. Dawn is unable to fade the night. H ope is the destination that we seek.
Love is the road that leads to hope.
Courage is the motor that drives us. We travel out of darkness into faith. A t the point where hope and reason part, lies the spot where madness gets a start. No peaceful bed exists for lamb or lion, unless on some world out beyond Orion. Do not instruct the owls to spare the mice.