It Was Surprising That Nature Had Gone

A Very Little Boy Stood Upon A Heap Of Gravel For The Honour Of Rum Alley. He Was Throwing Stones At Howling Urchins From Devil's Row, Who Were Circling Madly About The Heap And Pelting Him. His Infantile Countenance Was Livid With The Fury Of Battle. His Small Body Was Writhing In The Delivery Of Oaths.

Mother, Whose Heart Hung Humble As A Button The Bright Splendid Shroud Of Your Son, Do Not Weep. War Is Kind.

Half Of Tradition Is A Lie.

The Wayfarer, Perceiving The Pathway To Truth, Was Struck With Astonishment. It Was Thickly Grown With Weeds. "ha," He Said, "i See That None Has Passed Here In A Long Time." Later He Saw That Each Weed Was A Singular Knife. "well," He Mumbled At Last, "doubtless There Are Other Roads.

If I Am Going To Be Drowned – If I Am Going To Be Drowned – If I Am Going To Be Drowned, Why In The Name Of The Seven Mad Gods Who Rule The Sea, Was I Allowed To Come Thus Far And Contemplate Land And Trees?