Ye Are Brothers! Ye Are Men! And

The Proud, The Cold Untroubled Heart Of Stone, That Never Mused On Sorrow But Its Own.

An Original Something, Dear Maid, You Would Wish Me To Write; But How Shall I Begin? For I'm Sure I Have Not Original In Me, Excepting Original Sin.

Ye Are Brothers! Ye Are Men! And We Conquer But To Save.

The Only Thing That Is Fundamental (real) Is Consciousness Itself; All Else Is Virtual- I.e., A Result Of An Exchange Of Information Within Consciousness.

O Leave This Barren Spot To Me! Spare, Woodman, Spare The Beechen Tree.