There Sat I, A Faded Being, Under

The Various Forms Of Despair At The Various Stations On The Road.

A Stair Not Worn Hollow By Footsteps Is, Regarded From Its Own Point Of View, Only A Boring Something Made Of Wood.

No Sooner Said Than Done - So Acts Your Man Of Worth.

Now I Can Look At You In Peace; I Don't Eat You Any More.

Towards The Avoidance Of A Piece Of Verbal Confusion: What Is Intended To Be Actively Destroyed Must First Of All Have Been Firmly Grasped; What Crumbles Away Crumbles Away, But Cannot Be Destroyed.