Doesn't All Experience Crumble In The End

I Have Little Faith In The Theory That Organized Killing Is The Best Prelude To Peace.

Spring, Which Germinated In The Earth, Moved Also With A Strange Restlessness, In The Hearts Of... Women. As The Weeks Passed, Inextinguishable Hope, Which Mounts With The Rising Sap, Looked From Their Faces.

No, One Couldn't Make A Revolution, One Couldn't Even Start A Riot, With Sheep That Asked Only For Better Browsing.

Though Pleasure May Be Purchasable, Happiness Cannot Be Bought For A Price.

And Where Was Happiness If It Sprung Not From The Soil? Where Contentment If It Dwelt Not Near To Nature?