Sorrow Is A Fruit. God

Love, Thine Is The Future. Death, I Use Thee, But I Hate Thee. Citizens, There Shall Be In The Future Neither Darkness Nor Thunderbolts; Neither Ferocious Ignorance Nor Blood For Blood.

Death Belongs To God Alone; By What Right Do Men Touch That Unknown Thing?

Is It Not A Thing Divine To Have A Smile Which, None Know How, Has The Power To Lighten The Weight Of That Enormous Chain Which All The Living In Common Drag Behind Them?

Revolution Is The Larva Of Civilization.

And The Dream That Our Mind Had Sketched In Haste Shall Others Continue, But Never Complete. For None Upon Earth Can Achieve His Scheme; The Best As The Worst Are Futile Here: We Wake At The Self-same Point Of The Dream, All Is Here Begun, And Finished Elsewhere.