It Is Wrong To Be Sorry Without

There Is Not Any Advantage To Be Won From Grim Lamentation.

No Season Now For Calm, Familiar Talk.

Ruin, Eldest Daughter Of Zeus, She Blinds Us All, That Fatal Madness—she With Those Delicate Feet Of Hers, Never Touching The Earth, Gliding Over The Heads Of Men To Trap Us All. She Entangles One Man, Now Another.

If It Doesn't Have Siamese Twins In A Jar, It Is Not A Fair.

Everything Is More Beautiful Because We're Doomed. You Will Never Be Lovelier Than You Are Now. We Will Never Be Here Again.