Any Man May Be In Good Spirits

The Nephew Revenges Himself For This, By Holding His Breath And Terrifying His Kinswoman With The Dread Belief That He Has Made Up His Mind To Burst. Regardless Of Whispers And Shakes, He Swells And Becomes Discoloured, And Yet Again Swells And Becomes Discoloured, Until The Aunt Can Bear It No Longer, But Leads Him Out, With No Visible Neck, And With His Eyes Going Before Him Like A Prawn's.

When Death Strikes Down The Innocent And Young, For Every Fragile Form From Which He Lets The Panting Spirit Free, A Hundred Virtues Rise, In Shapes Of Mercy, Charity, And Love, To Walk The World And Bless It. Of Every Tear That Sorrowing Mortals Shed On Such Green Graves, Some Good Is Born, Some Gentler Nature Comes.

Repression Is The Only Lasting Philosophy. The Dark Deference Of Fear And Slavery, My Friend, Will Keep The Dogs Obedient To The Whip, As Long As This Roof Shuts Out The Sky.

Your Voice And Music Are The Same To Me.

"well," Said My Aunt, "this Is His Boy - His Son. He Would Be As Like His Father As It's Possible To Be, If He Was Not So Like His Mother, Too."