If Millions Are Born Millions Must Die.

There Is No Reason For Amazement: Surely One Always Knew That Cultures Decay, And Life's End Is Death.

Meteors Are Not Needed Less Than Mountains: Shine, Perishing Republic.

If You Should Look For This Place After A Handful Of Lifetimes: Perhaps Of My Planted Forest A Few May Stand Yet, Dark-leaved Australians Or The Coast Cypress, Haggard With Storm-drift; But Fire And The Axe Are Devils. Look For Foundations Of Sea-worn Granite, My Fingers Had The Art To Make Stone Love Stone, You Will Find Some Remnant.

[k]now That However Ugly The Parts Appear The Whole Remains Beautiful. A Severed Hand Is An Ugly Thing, And Man Dissevered From The Earth And Stars And His History... For Contemplation Or In Fact... Often Appears Atrociously Ugly. Integrity Is Wholeness, The Greatest Beauty Is Organic Wholeness, The Wholeness Of Life And Things, The Divine Beauty Of The Universe.

As For Me, I Would Rather Be A Worm In A Wild Apple Than A Son Of Man. But We Are What We Are, And We Might Remember Not To Hate Any Person, For All Are Vicious; And Not To Be Astonished At Any Evil, All Are Deserved; And Not To Fear Death; It Is The Only Way To Be Cleansed.