He Makes A Solitude, And Calls It

Happiness Was Born A Twin.

My Days Are In The Yellow Leaf; The Flowers And Fruits Of Love Are Gone; The Worm, The Canker, And The Grief, Are Mine Alone!

A Drop Of Ink May Make A Million Think.

A Small Drop Of Ink Makes Thousands, Perhaps Millions... Think.

Such Hath It Been--shall Be--beneath The Sun The Many Still Must Labour For The One.