It Is Only Kindred Griefs That Draw

Money Is The God Of Our Time, And Rothschild Is His Prophet.

Ordinarily He Was Insane, But He Had Lucid Moments When He Was Merely Stupid

The Sun's Sweet Ray Is Hovering Discovered.

The Propaganda Of Communism Possesses A Language Which Every People Can Understand. Its Elements Are Simply Hunger, Envy, Death.

Perhaps Already I Am Dead, And These Perhaps Are Phantoms Vain; - These Motley Phantasies That Pass At Night Through My Disordered Brain. Perhaps With Ancient Heathen Shapes, Old Faded Gods, This Brain Is Full; Who, For Their Most Unholy Rites, Have Chosen A Dead Poet's Skull.