I Don't Want To Work.

Vienne La Nuit Sonne L'heure Les Jours S'en Vont Je Demeure

People Quickly Grow Accustomed To Being The Slaves Of Mystery.

My, How Beautiful Is War! Its Songs, Its Leisure!

Without Artists, The Order Which We Find In Nature, And Which Is Only An Effect Of Art, Would At Once Vanish.

Joy Came Always After Pain.