Still The Mind Smiles At Its Own

We Might Remember ... Not To Fear Death; It Is The Only Way To Be Cleansed.

We Have To Live Like People In A Web Of Knives, We Mustn't Reach Out Our Hands Or We Get Them Gashed.

If Millions Are Born Millions Must Die.

The World's In A Bad Way, My Man, And Bound To Be Worse Before It Mends; Better Lie Up In The Mountain Here Four Or Five Centuries, While The Stars Go Over The Lonely Ocean.

It Is Only A Little Planet, But How Beautiful It Is.