Reason Flies When Following The Senses, On

The Customs And Fashions Of Men Change Like Leaves On The Bough, Some Of Which Go And Others Come.

All Hope Abandon, Ye Who Enter Here!

There Are Souls Beneath That Water. Fixed In Slimethey Speak Their Piece, End It, And Start Again:'sullen Were We In The Air Made Sweet By The Sun;in The Glory Of His Shining Our Hearts Poureda Bitter Smoke. Sullen Were We Begun;sullen We Lie Forever In This Ditch.'this Litany They Gargle In Their Throatsas If They Sand, But Lacked The Words And Pitch.

It Is Necessity And Not Pleasure That Compels Us.

At The Midpoint On The Journey Of Life, I Found Myself In A Dark Forest, For The Clear Path Was Lost.