Old Men, What Are They? Fast Fading

Nothing Forces Us To Know What We Do Not Want To Know Except Pain

It Is Always In Season For Old Men To Learn.

I Warn The Marauder Dragging Plunder, Chaotic, Rich Beyond All Rights: He'll Strike His Sails, Harried At Long Last, Stunned When The Squalls Of Torment Break His Spars To Bits.

Of All The Gods Only Death Does Not Desire Gifts.

Ye Waves That O'er Th' Interminable Ocean Wreathe Your Crisped Smiles.