A Patriot Is A Fool In Ev'ry

To Swear Is Neither Brave, Polite, Nor Wise.

When To The Permanent Is Sacrificed The Mutable, The Prize Is Thine: The Drop Returneth Whence It Came. The Open Path Leads To The Changeless Change - Non-being, The Glorious State Of Absoluteness, The Bliss Past Human Thought.

Fondly We Think We Honor Merit Then, When We But Praise Ourselves In Other Men.

Ah! What Avails It Me The Flocks To Keep, Who Lost My Heart While I Preserv'd My Sheep.

Ah! Why, Ye Gods, Should Two And Two Make Four?