Death Had His Grudge Against Me, And

Sameness Is The Mother Of Disgust, Variety The Cure.

My Flowery And Green Age Was Passing Away, And I Feeling A Chill In The Fires Had Been Wasting My Heart, For I Was Drawing Near The Hillside Above The Grave.

Great Errors Seldom Originate But With Men Of Great Minds.

Ruthless Striving, Overcomes Everything.

All Pleasure In The World Is A Passing Dream.