It Is A Long Road From Conception

Assassination's The Fastest Way.

We Die Only Once, And For Such A Long Time.

Betrayed And Wronged In Everything, I’ll Flee This Bitter World Where Vice Is King, And Seek Some Spot Unpeopled And Apart Where I’ll Be Free To Have An Honest Heart. - Molière, The Misanthrope

Then Worms Shall Try That Long Preserved Virginity, And Your Quaint Honor Turn To Dust, And Into Ashes All My Lust. The Grave's A Fine And Private Place But None, I Think, Do There Embrace.

What! Would You Make No Distinction Between Hypocrisy And Devotion? Would You Give Them The Same Names, And Respect The Mask As You Do The Face? Would You Equate Artifice And Sincerity? Confound Appearance With Truth? Regard The Phantom As The Very Person? Value Counterfeit As Cash?