I Give You The End

Some Say That Happiness Is Not Good For Mortals, & They Ought To Be Answered That Sorrow Is Not Fit For Immortals & Is Utterly Useless To Any One; A Blight Never Does Good To A Tree, & If A Blight Kill Not A Tree But It Still Bear Fruit, Let None Say That The Fruit Was In Consequence Of The Blight.

Love Seeketh Only Self To Please, To Bind Another To Its Delight, Joys In Another's Loss Of Ease, And Builds A Hell In Heaven's Despite.

The Man Who Never Alters His Opinions Is Like Standing Water, And Breeds Reptiles Of The Mind.

Children Of The Future Age Reading This Indignant Page Know That In A Former Time Love, Sweet Love, Was Thought A Crime

I Have No Name: I Am But Two Days Old. What Shall I Call Thee? I Happy Am, Joy Is My Name. Sweet Joy Befall Thee!