The Love That Is Never

Thirstily He Set It To His Lips, And As Its Cool Refreshment Began To Soothe His Throat, He Thanked Heaven That In A World Of Much Evil There Was Still So Good A Thing As Ale.

It Came To Mr. Blood, As He Trudged Forward Under The Laden Apple-trees On That Fragrant, Delicious July Morning, That Man—as He Had Long Suspected—was The Vilest Work Of God, And That Only A Fool Would Set Himself Up As A Healer Of A Species That Was Best Exterminated.

He Was Born With A Gift Of Laughter And A Sense That The World Was Mad.

I Am Very Poor - For A Know Nothing, Understand Nothing. It Is Not A Calamitous Condition Until It Is Realized.

There Remained The Sea, Which Is Free To All, And Particularly Alluring To Those Who Feel Themselves At War With Humanity.