They Had Behind Them, To My Mind,

The Sky Over Patusan Was Blood-red, Immense, Streaming Like An Open Vein. An Enormous Sun Nestled Crimson Amongst The Treetops, And The Forest Below Had A Black And Forbidding Face.

Vanity Plays Lurid Tricks With Our Memory.

Don't You Forget What's Divine In The Russian Soul And That's Resignation.

We Live As We Dream - Alone.

All A Man Can Betray Is His Conscience.