If I Was Wealthy I'd Never Do

I Have Known Many Gods. He Who Denies Them Is Blind As He Who Trusts Them Too Deeply.

Life Is But A Web Spun Of Ghosts And Dreams And Illusions.

There Comes, Even To Kings, The Time Of Great Weariness. Then The Gold Of The Throne Is Brass, The Silk Of The Palace Becomes Drab. The Gems In The Diadem And Upon The Fingers Of The Women Sparkle Drearily Like The Ice Of White Seas; The Speech Of Men Is As The Empty Rattle Of A Jester's Bell And The Feel Comes Of Things Unreal; Even The Sun Is Copper In The Sky And The Breath Of The Green Ocean Is No Longer Fresh.

But Whatever My Failure, I Have This Thing To Remember - That I Was A Pioneer In My Profession, Just As My Grandfathers Were In Theirs, In That I Was The First Man In This Section To Earn His Living As A Writer.

Time And Times Are But Cogwheels, Unmatched, Grinding On Oblivious To One Another. Occasionally - Oh, Very Rarely! - The Cogs Fit; The Pieces Of The Plot Snap Together Momentarily And Give Men Faint Glimpses Beyond The Veil Of This Everyday Blindness We Call Reality.