Life Is But A Web Spun Of

I'm Not Going Out Of My Way Looking For Devils; But I Wouldn't Step Out Of My Path To Let One Go By.

What Do I Know Of Cultured Ways, The Gilt, The Craft And The Lie? I, Who Was Born In A Naked Land And Bred In The Open Sky. The Subtle Tongue, The Sophist Guile, They Fail When The Broadswords Sing; Rush In And Die, Dogs—i Was A Man Before I Was A King.

Civilization Is A Network And A Maze Of Precedences And Custom.

The Printed Page Was Like Wine To Me.

When I Cannot Stand Alone, It Will Be Time To Die.