What do we know but that we face one another in this place?

I think you can leave the arts, superior or inferior, to the conscience of mankind.

Everything exists, everything is true and the earth is just a bit of dust beneath our feet.

Consume my heart away, sick with desire And fastened to a dying animal It knows not what it is, and gather me Into the artifice of eternity.

If there's no hatred in a mind Assault and battery of the wind Can never tear the linnet from the leaf

One should not lose one's temper unless one is certain of getting more and more angry to the end.

Imagining in excited reverie That the future years had come, Dancing to a frenzied drum, Out of the murderous innocence of the sea.