Truly Men Hate The Truth; They'd Liefer

Meteors Are Not Needed Less Than Mountains: Shine, Perishing Republic.

Imagination, The Traitor Of The Mind, Has Taken My Solitude And Slain It.

There Is No Reason For Amazement: Surely One Always Knew That Cultures Decay, And Life's End Is Death.

Oh Heavy Change. The World Deteriorates Like A Rotting Apple, Worms And A Skin.

It Seems To Me That This Whole Alone Is Worthy Of The Deeper Sort Of Love; And That There Is Peace, Freedom, I Might Say A Kind Of Salvation, In Turning One's Affections Outward Toward This One God, Rather Than Inwards On One's Self, Or On Humanity, Or On Human Imaginations And Abstractions - The World Of The Spirits.