I Hate To Tell Again

The Man Who Acts The Least, Upbraids The Most.

The Generation Of Mankind Is Like The Generation Of Leaves. The Wind Scatters The Leaves On The Ground, But The Living Tree Burgeons With Leaves Again In The Spring.

Beauty! Terrible Beauty! A Deathless Goddess-- So She Strikes Our Eyes!

Let Him Submit To Me! Only The God Of Death Is So Relentless, Death Submits To No One—so Mortals Hate Him Most Of All The Gods. Let Him Bow Down To Me! I Am The Greater King, I Am The Elder-born, I Claim—the Greater Man.

A Generation Of Men Is Like A Generation Of Leaves; The Wind Scatters Some Leaves Upon The Ground, While Others The Burgeoning Wood Brings Forth - And The Season Of Spring Comes On. So Of Men One Generation Springs Forth And Another Ceases.