If Christianity Was Morality, Socrates Would Be

The Sick Rose O Rose, Thou Art Sick. The Invisible Worm That Flies In The Night In The Howling Storm Has Found Out Thy Bed Of Crimson Joy, And His Dark Secret Love Does Thy Life Destroy.

If You, Who Are Organised By Divine Providence For Spiritual Communion, Refuse, And Bury Your Talent In The Earth, Even Though You Should Want Natural Bread, Sorrow And Desperation Pursue You Through Life, And After Death Shame And Confusion Of Face To Eternity.

The Man Who Pretends To Be A Modest Enquirer Into The Truth Of A Self-evident Thing Is A Knave.

Always Be Ready To Speak Your Mind, And A Base Man Will Avoid You.

Embraces Are Comminglings From The Head Even To The Feet, And Not A Pompous High Priest Entering By A Secret Place.