Oh How Beautiful To Fall To Give

I Do Not Write For This Generation. I Am Writing For Other Ages. If This Could Read Me, They Would Burn My Books, The Work Of My Whole Life. On The Other Hand, The Generation Which Interprets These Writings Will Be An Educated Generation; They Will Understand Me And Say: Not All Were Asleep In The Nighttime Of Our Grandparents.

The People Do Not Complain Because They Have No Voice; Do Not Move Because They Are Lethargic, And You Say That They Do Not Suffer Because You Have Not Seen Their Hearts Bleed.

Friar! What A Strange Name. I Don't Remember Having Created Such A Thing!

Climate Affects Bipeds In The Same Way It Does Quadrupeds.

Oh How Beautiful To Fall To Give You Flight, To Die To Give You Life, To Rest Under Your Sky; And In Your Enchanted Land Forever Sleep.