Give me a spirit that on this life's rough sea, loves to have his sails filled with lusty wind, even till his sail-yards tremble, his mast crack, and his rapt ship run on her side so low that she drinks water, and her keel ploughs air.
-George Chapman
For Time is of the essence in this forsaken place.
Words go only so far to promote the life of grace.
Sail out into the ocean on this, your hidden boat.
Only paper will remember the feelings that you wrote.
Soli Deo Gloria
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