Equality Is A Mortuary Word.

In Our Plain Defects We Already Know The Brotherhood Of Man.

I Know Your Cause Is Lost, But In The Heart / Of All Right Causes Is A Cause That Cannot Lose.

Between Our Birth And Death We May Touch Understanding, As A Moth Brushes A Window With Its Wing

Who Apart From Ourselves, Can See Any Difference Between Our Victories And Our Defeats?

The Skirts Of The Gods Drag In Our Mud. We Feel The Touch And Take It To Be A Kiss.