It Seems To Me You Do Not

History, Stephen Said, Is A Nightmare From Which I Am Trying To Awake.

This Race And This Country And This Life Produced Me, He Said. I Shall Express Myself As I Am.

Old Father, Old Artificer, Stand Me Now And Ever In Good Stead.

Time Is, Time Was, But Time Shall Be No More.

Gentle Lady, Do Not Sing Sad Songs About The End Of Love; Lay Aside Sadness And Sing How Love That Passes Is Enough. Sing About The Long Deep Sleep Of Lovers That Are Dead, And How In The Grave All Love Shall Sleep: Love Is Aweary Now.