God's justice, tardy though it prove perchance, Rests never on the track until it reach Delinquency.

The body sprang At once to the height, and stayed; but the soul,-no!

Make no more giants, God!But elevate the race at once!

There is nothing so unpardonable as to consent to a senseless, aimless, purposeless life.

Our interest's on the dangerous edge of things. The honest thief, the tender murderer, the superstitious atheist.

I give the fight up: let there be an end, a privacy, an obscure nook for me. I want to be forgotten even by God.

Kiss me as if you made believe You were not sure this eve, How my face, your flower, had pursed It's petals up.