As I Grow Older, I Regret To

Man's Cleverness Is Almost Indefinite, And Stretches Like An Elastic Band, But Human Nature Is Like An Iron Ring. You Can Go Round And Round It, You Can Polish It Highly, You Can Even Flatten It A Little On One Side, Whereby You Will Make It Bulge Out The Other, But You Will Never, While The World Endures And Man Is Man, Increase Its Total Circumference.

The Food That Memory Gives To Eat Is Bitter To The Taste, And It Is Only With The Teeth Of Hope That We Can Bear To Bite It.

Wealth Is Good, And If It Comes Our Way We Will Take It; But A Gentleman Does Not Sell Himself For Wealth.

Yea, All Things Live Forever, Though At Times They Sleep And Are Forgotten.

And Now Let Us Love And Take That Which Is Given Us, And Be Happy; For In The Grave There Is No Love And No Warmth, Nor Any Touching Of The Lips. Nothing Perchance, Or Perchance But Bitter Memories Of What Might Have Been.