Into The Darkness They Go, The Wise

Life Goes On Forever Like The Gnawing Of A Mouse.

Without Music I Should Wish To Die.

How Strange A Thing Is Death, Bringing To His Knees, Bringing To His Antlers The Buck In The Snow . . . Life, Looking Out Attentive From The Eyes Of The Doe.

Time Can Make Soft That Iron Wood.

Let Geese Gabble And Hiss, But Heroes Seek Release From Dusty Bondage Into Luminous Air.