Yea, All Things Live Forever, Though At

The Sky Aft Was Dark As Pitch, But The Moon Still Shone Brightly Ahead Of Us And Lit Up The Blackness. Beneath Its Sheen A Huge White-topped Breaker, Twenty Feet High Or More, Was Rushing On To Us. It Was On The Break-the Moon Shone On Its Crest And Tipped Its Foam With Light. On It Rushed Beneath The Inky Sky, Driven By The Awful Squall Behind It.

The Almighty Gave Us Our Lives, And I Suppose He Meant Us To Defend Them, At Least I Have Always Acted On That, And I Hope It Will Not Be Brought Up Against Me When My Clock Strikes.

As I Grow Older, I Regret To Say That A Detestable Habit Of Thinking Seems To Be Getting A Hold Of Me.

It Is A Well-known Fact That Very Often, Putting The Period Of Boyhood Out Of The Argument, The Older We Grow The More Cynical And Hardened We Become; Indeed, Many Of Us Are Only Saved By Timely Death From Moral Petrification, If Not From Moral Corruption.

We White People Think That We Know Everything.