Go, Grieving Rimes Of Mine, To That

While Life Is In Your Body, You Have The Rein Of All Thoughts In Your Hands.

The Time Will Come When Every Change Shall Cease, This Quick Revolving Wheel Shall Rest In Peace: No Summer Then Shall Glow, Not Winter Freeze; Nothing Shall Be To Come, And Nothing Past, But An Eternal Now Shall Ever Last.

Often Have I Wondered With Much Curiosity As To Our Coming Into This World And What Will Follow Our Departure.

I Rejoiced In My Progress, Mourned My Weaknesses, And Commiserated The Universal Instability Of Human Conduct.

Sameness Is The Mother Of Disgust, Variety The Cure.