In Religious Matters A Traveller Loses Nothing

I Have Followed After The Truth, Across This Windy Planet Upon Which Every Person Is Nourished By One Or Another Lie.

But With Man The Case Is Otherwise, In That When Logic Leads To Any Humiliating Conclusion, The Sole Effect Is To Discredit Logic.

I Fight Against The Gluttony Of Time With So Many Very Amusing Weapons With Gestures And With Three Attitudes And With Charming Phrases; With Tears And With Tinsel, And With Sugar-coated Pills, And With Platitudes Slightly Regilded. Yes, And I Fight Him Also With Little Mirrors Wherein Gleam Confusedly The Corruptions Of Lust, And Ruddy Loyalty, And A Bit Of Moonshine, And The Pure Diamond Of The Heart's Desire, And The Opal Cloudings Of Human Compromise: But, Above All, I Fight That Ravening Dotard With The Strength Of My Own Folly.

Good And Evil Keep Very Exact Accounts... And The Face Of Every Man Is Their Ledger.

Time Changes All Things And Cultivates Even In Herself An Appreciation Of Irony, And, Therefore, Why Shouldn't I Have Changed A Trifle?