It Is The Devil's Masterstroke To Get

Earth Knows No Desolation. She Smells Regeneration In The Moist Breath Of Decay.

Faith Works Miracles. At Least It Allows Time For Them.

I Expect Woman Will Be The Last Thing Civilized By Man.

The Future Not Being Born, My Friend, We Will Abstain From Baptizing It.

Days, When The Ball Of Our Vision Had Eagles That Flew Unabashed To Sun; When The Graps On The Bow Was Decision, And Arrow And Hand And Eye Were One; When The Pleasures, Like Waves To A Swimmer, Came Heaving For Rapture Ahead! - Invoke Them, They Dwindle, They Glimmer As Lights Over Mounds Of The Dead.