A Deception That Elevates Us Is Dearer

But Even Friendship Like Our Heroes' Exist No More; For We've Outgrown All Sentiments And Deem Men Zeroes-- Except Of Course Ourselves Alone. We All Take On Napoleon's Features, And Millions Of Our Fellow Creatures Are Nothing More To Us Than Tools... Since Feelings Are For Freaks And Fools. Eugene, Of Course, Had Keen Perceptions And On The Whole Despised Mankind, Yet Wasn't, Like So Many, Blind; And Since Each Rule Permits Exceptions, He Did Respect A Noble Few, And, Cold Himself, Gave Warmth Its Due.

Sad That Our Finest Aspiration, Our Freshest Dreams And Meditations, In Swift Succession Should Decay, Like Autumn Leaves That Rot Away.

Better The Illusions That Exalt Us Than Ten Thousand Truths.

It Is Better To Have Dreamed A Thousand Dreams That Never Were Than Never To Have Dreamed At All.

A Man Who's Active And Incisive Can Yet Keep Nail-care Much In Mind: Why Fight What's Known To Be Decisive? Custom Is Despot Of Mankind.