The Irish Are A Philosophic As Well

All Forms Of Dogmatic Religion Should Go. The World Did Without Them In The Past And Can Do So Again.

How True It Is That Words Are But The Vague Shadows Of The Volumes We Mean.

I Believe In The Compelling Power Of Love. I Do Not Understand It. I Believe It To Be The Most Fragrant Blossom Of All This Thorny Existence.

It Isn't Myself That's Important In This Transaction Apparently; The Individual Doesn't Count Much In The Situation...all Of Us Are More Or Less Pawns. We're Moved About Like Chessmen By Circumstances Over Which We Have No Control.

I Sacrifice To The God Of Beauty — The Impulse To Beauty In Nature. Here Are Flowers. Here Is Wine Spilled On The Floor. I Will Burn Incense & Myrhh. I Will Kneel & Strike My Breast & Touch The Dust With My Forehead. I Will I Will! Only Do Not Forsake Me, Oh God Of Beauty.