I am at the gates of my own destruction.(Or so I'm told.) — Beth Morey, Night Cycles: Poetry for a Dark Night of the Soul
I am at the gates of my own destruction.(Or so I'm told.) — Beth Morey, Night Cycles: Poetry for a Dark Night of the Soul
I am at the gates of my own destruction.(Or so I'm told.) — Beth Morey, Night Cycles: Poetry for a Dark Night of the Soul
I am at the gates of my own destruction.(Or so I'm told.) — Beth Morey, Night Cycles: Poetry for a Dark Night of the Soul
I am at the gates of my own destruction.(Or so I'm told.) — Beth Morey, Night Cycles: Poetry for a Dark Night of the Soul
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I am at the gates of my own destruction.(Or so I'm told.)

— Beth Morey, Night Cycles: Poetry for a Dark Night of the Soul
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...he began to fear whether in the presence of far greater events, all his acts would not fade into insignificance, just — Henryk Sienkiewicz, In Desert and Wilderness
They were like two poor little leaves in a storm which bore death and annihilation not only to the heads of individuals, — Henryk Sienkiewicz, In Desert and Wilderness
He would not now conduct little Nell to the coast; he would not convey her by a steamer to Port Said, would not surrende — Henryk Sienkiewicz, In Desert and Wilderness
Doubt isn't original. — Toba Beta, My Ancestor Was an Ancient Astronaut
Doubt is the thing that’ll kill you, the only thing, and it’ll kill your friends, too. — Ron Leshem, Beaufort
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