Why Art Thou But A

Each One Of Us Must Suffer Long To Himself Before He Can Learn That He Is But One In A Great Community Of Wretchedness Which Has Been Pitilessly Repeating Itself From The Foundation Of The World.

We Are Creatures Of The Moment; We Live From One Little Space To Another, And Only One Interest At A Time Fills These.

Preach The Blessings Of Our Deeply Incorporated Civilization By The Mouths Of Our Eight-inch Guns.

The Wars Come And Go In Blood And Tears; But Whether They Are Bad Wars, Or What Are Comically Called Good Wars, They Are Of One Effect In Death And Sorrow.

Why Art Thou But A Nest Of Gloom While The Bobolinks Are Singing?