We Are In Truth But Pieces On

Fools, Your Reward Is Neither Here Nor There.

The Rose That Once Has Bloomed Forever Dies.

To-day Is Thine To Spend, But Not To-morrow; Counting On Morrows Breedeth Bankrupt Sorrow: O Squander Not This Breath That Heaven Hath Lent Thee; Make Not Too Sure Another Breath To Borrow.

The Stars Are Setting And The Caravan Starts For The Dawn Of Nothing-oh, Make Haste!

He Who Has One Enemy Shall Meet Him Everywhere.