When All Shoot At One Mark, The

Let A Man Then Know His Worth And Keep Things Under His Feet.

Whence, Then, This Worship Of The Past? The Centuries Are Conspirators Against The Sanity And Authority Of The Soul.

How We Hate This Solemn Ego That Accompanies The Learned, Like A Double, Wherever He Goes.

Truth Has Already Ceased To Be Itself If Polemically Said.

What Potent Blood Hath Modest May.