August Creates As She Slumbers, Replete And

Man Is, Perhaps, No More Prone To War Than He Used To Be And No More Inclined To Commit Other Evil Deeds. But A Given Amount Of Ill Will Or Folly Will Go Further Than It Used To.

Nature, In Her Blind Thirst For Life Has Filled Every Possible Cranny Of The Rotting Earth With Some Sort Of Fantastic Creature.

August Creates As She Slumbers, Replete And Satisfied.

Both The Cockroach And The Bird Would Get Along Very Well Without Us, Although The Cockroach Would Miss Us Most.

It Is Not A Sentimental, But A Grimly Literal Fact That Unless We Share This Terrestrial Globe With Creatures Other Than Ourselves, We Shall Not Be Able To Live On It For Long.