A Learned Man Came To Me Once.

A Man Said To The Universe: 'sir, I Exist!' 'however,' Replied The Universe. 'the Fact Has Not Created In Me A Sense Of Obligation.

Do Not Weep, Maiden, For War Is Kind. Because Your Lover Threw Wild Hands Toward The Sky And The Affrighted Steed Ran On Alone, Do Not Weep. War Is Kind. Hoarse, Booming Drums Of The Regiment, Little Souls Who Thirst For Fight, These Men Were Born To Drill And Die. The Unexplained Glory Flies Above Them, Great Is The Battle-god, Great, And His Kingdom -a Field Where A Thousand Corpses Lie. Do Not Weep, Babe, For War Is Kind.

A Little Man Said To The Universe. "sir! I Exist." The Universe Replied: "that's Fine." Just Don't Think It Creates Any Obligation On My Part.

Philosophy Should Always Know That Indifference Is A Militant Thing. It Batters Down The Walls Of Cities And Murders The Women And Children Amid The Flames And The Purloining Of Altar Vessels. When It Goes Away It Leaves Smoking Ruins, Where Lie Citizens Bayonetted Through The Throat. It Is Not A Children's Pastime Like Mere Highway Robbery.

A Learned Man Came To Me Once. He Said, "i Know The Way, -- Come." And I Was Overjoyed At This. Together We Hastened. Soon, Too Soon, Were We Where My Eyes Were Useless, And I Knew Not The Ways Of My Feet. I Clung To The Hand Of My Friend; But At Last He Cried, "i Am Lost.