And Here, Poor Fool, With All My

Unrest And Uncertainty Are Our Lot.

One Must Keep Repeating The Truth.

Two Souls, Alas, Are Housed Within My Breast, And Each Will Wrestle For The Mastery There.

The March Of Intellect, Which Licks All The World Into Shape, Has Even Reached The Devil.

I Never Believed In Trying To Do Anything. Whatever I Set Out To Do I Found I Had Already Accomplished.