Taste Is The Common Sense

Gavroche Had Fallen Only To Rise Again; He Sat Up, A Long Stream Of Blood Rolled Down His Face, He Raised Both Arms In Air, Looked In The Direction Whence The Shot Came, And Began To Sing.

The Merciful Precepts Of Christ Will At Last Suffuse The Code And It Will Glow With Their Radiance. Crime Will Be Considered An Illness With Its Own Doctors To Replace Your Judges And Its Hospitals To Replace Your Prisons. Liberty Shall Be Equated With Health. Ointments And Oil Shall Be Applied To Limbs That Were Once Shackled And Branded. Infirmities That Once Were Scourged With Anger Shall Now Be Bathed With Love. The Cross In Place Of The Gallows: Sublime And Yet So Simple.

With A Tiny Bit Of Effort, The Nettle Would Be Useful; If You Neglect It, It Becomes A Pest. So Then We Kill It. How Many Men Are Like Nettles My Friends, There Is No Such Thing As A Weed And No Such Thing As A Bad Man. There Are Only Bad Cultivators.

Nothing Can Be Sadder Or More Profound Than To See A Thousand Things For The First And Last Time. To Journey Is To Be Born And Die Each Minute...all The Elements Of Life Are In Constant Flight From Us, With Darkness And Clarity Intermingled, The Vision And The Eclipse; We Look And Hasten, Reaching Out Our Hands To Clutch; Every Happening Is A Bend In The Road...and Suddenly We Have Grown Old. We Have A Sense Of Shock And Gathering Darkness; Ahead Is A Black Doorway; The Life That Bore Us Is A Flagging Horse, And A Veiled Stranger Is Waiting In The Shadows To Unharness Us.

If People Did Not Love One Another, I Really Don't See What Use There Would Be In Having Any Spring.