Led On By Impulse, And Blind And

Those Who Do Not Wish To Kill Any One, Wish They Had The Power. [lat., Et Qui Nolunt Occidere Quemquam Posse Volunt.]

The Noiseless Foot Of Tune Steals Swiftly By And Ere We Dream Of Manhood, Age Is Nigh.

The Pupil Will Eclipse His Tutor, I Warrant.

Now We Suffer The Evils Of A Long Peace; Luxury More Cruel Than War Broods Over Us And Avenges A Conquered World.

Trust To A Plank, Draw Precarious Breath, At Most Seven Inches From The Jaws Of Death.