Say First, Of God Above Or Man

A Youth Of Frolic, An Old Age Of Cards.

Nor Public Flame, Nor Private, Dares To Shine; Nor Human Spark Is Left, Nor Glimpse Divine! Lo! Thy Dread Empire, Chaos! Is Restored; Light Dies Before Thy Uncreating Word: Thy Hand, Great Anarch! Lets The Curtain Fall; And Universal Darkness Buries All.

Like Cato, Give His Little Senate Laws, And Sit Attentive To His Own Applause.

The Laughers Are A Majority.

The Only Time You Run Out Of Chances Is When You Stop Taking Them