The Tigers Of Wrath Are

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.

Prudence Is A Rich, Ugly, Old Maid Courted By Incapacity.

Such, Such Were The Joys When We All, Girls And Boys, In Our Youth Time Were Seen On The Echoing Green.

Each Man Must Create His Own System Or Else He Is A Slave To Another Mans

When The Doors Of Perception Are Cleansed, Men Will See Things As They Truly Are, Infinite.