The Sea Is Flowing Ever, The Land

What A Day It Is When We Must Envy The Men In Their Graves.

While Man's Desires And Aspirations Stir He Cannot Choose But Err.

The Man Who Acts Never Has Any Conscience; No One Has Any Conscience But The Man Who Thinks

Everything Transitory Is But An Image.

As Man Is, So Is His God. And Thus Is God Oft Strangely Odd.