The General Interest Of The Masses Might

How Old The World Is! I Walk Between Two Eternities.... What Is My Fleeting Existence In Comparison With That Decaying Rock, That Valley Digging Its Channel Ever Deeper, That Forest That Is Tottering And Those Great Masses Above My Head About To Fall? I See The Marble Of Tombs Crumbling Into Dust; And Yet I Don't Want To Die!

The World Is The House Of The Strong.

The World Is The House Of The Strong. I Shall Not Know Until The End What I Have Lost Or Won In This Place, In This Vast Gambling Den Where I Have Spent More Than Sixty Years, Dice Box In Hand, Shaking The Dice.

To Describe Women, The Pen Should Be Dipped In The Humid Colors Of The Rainbow, And The Paper Dried With The Dust Gathered From The Wings Of A Butterfly.

Those Authors Into Whose Hands Nature Has Placed A Magic Wand, With Which They No Sooner Touch Us Than We Forget The Unhappiness In Life, Than The Darkness Leaves Our Soul, And We Are Reconciled To Existence, Should Be Placed Among The Benefactors Of The Human Race.