Out Of Chaos God Made

Sweet Is Old Wine In Bottles, Ale In Barrels.

What A Strange Thing Is Man! And What A Stranger Is Woman.

Glory, Like The Phoenix 'midst Her Fires, Exhales Her Odours, Blazes, And Expires.

I Am The Very Slave Of Circumstance And Impulse Borne Away With Every Breath! Misplaced Upon The Throne Misplaced In Life. I Know Not What I Could Have Been, But Feel I Am Not What I Should Be Let It End.

A Mistress Never Is Nor Can Be A Friend. While You Agree, You Are Lovers; And When It Is Over, Anything But Friends.