It Matters Not How Long

Burn To Be Great, Pay Not Thy Praise To Lofty Things Alone. The Plains Are Everlasting As The Hills, The Bard Cannot Have Two Pursuits; Aught Else Comes On The Mind With The Like Shock As Though Two Worlds Had Gone To War, And Met In Air.

Words Are The Motes Of Thought, And Nothing More.

Let Us Think Less Of Men And More Of God.

Hell Is The Wrath Of God--his Hate Of Sin.

Man Is A Military Animal, Glories In Gunpowder, And Loves Parade.