Civilization Is A Transient Sickness.

The Tides Are In Our Veins.

Happy People Die Whole, They Are All Dissolved In A Moment, They Have Had What They Wanted.

The World's In A Bad Way, My Man, And Bound To Be Worse Before It Mends; Better Lie Up In The Mountain Here Four Or Five Centuries, While The Stars Go Over The Lonely Ocean.

I Have Seen These Ways Of God: I Know Of No Reason For Fire And Change And Torture And The Old Returnings.

He Is Strong And Pain Is Worse To The Strong, Incapacity Is Worse.