The old Lie:Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.

I dreamed kind Jesus fouled the big-gun gears; and caused a permanent stoppage in all bolts; and buckled with a smile Mausers and Colts; and rusted every bayonet with His tears.

I am only conscious of any satisfaction in Scientific Reading or thinking when it rounds off into a poetical generality and vagueness.

The war affects me less than it ought. But I can do no service to anybody by agitating for news or making dole over the slaughter.

I was a boy when I first realized that the fullest life liveable was a Poet's

Those who, like the beasts, have no such Hope, pass their old age shrouded with an inward gloom.

I, too, saw God through mud