Fair or foul the lot apportioned life on earth, we bear alike.
Love, hope, fear, faith - these make humanity; These are its sign and note and character.
At last awake from life, that insane dream we take for waking now.
Death: the grand perhaps.
But what if I fail of my purpose here? It is but to keep the nerves at strain, to dry one's eyes and laugh at a fall, and baffled, get up and begin again.
And I have written three books on the soul, Proving absurd all written hitherto, And putting us to ignorance again.