Why Is Youth So Short And Age

Death! It Is Rest To The Aged, It Is Oblivion To The Atheist, It Is Immortality To The Poet!

Brussels Is A Gay Little City That Lies As Bright Within Its Girdle Of Woodland As Any Butterfly That Rests Upon Moss.

The Philosopher Stands At His Desk In The Lecture Hall, And Demonstrates Away The Soul Of Man, And With Exact Thought Measures Out His Atoms And Resolves Him Back To Gas And Air. But The Revolutionary, Below In The Crowd, Hears, And Only Translates What He Hears Thus To His Brethren: 'let Us Drink While We May; Property Is Robbery; This Life Is All; Let Us Kill And Eat; There Is No God.

When Passion And Habit Long Lie In Company It Is Only Slowly And With Incredulity That Habit Awakens To Finds Its Companion Fled, Itself Alone.

Dishonor Is Like The Aaron's Beard In The Hedgerows; It Can Only Poison If It Be Plucked.