If I Were Dammed Of Body And

There's No Jealousy In The Grave.

I Have No Gift Of Words, But I Speak The Truth.

When Your Daemon Is In Charge, Do Not Try To Think Consciously. Drift, Wait, And Obey.

When Man Has Come To The Turnstiles Of Night, All The Creeds In The World Seem To Him Wonderfully Alike And Colorless.

Not Only Do Words Infect, Egotize, Narcotize, And Paralyze, But They Enter Into And Colour The Minutest Cells Of The Brain. . . .