They Don’t Listen To Me, They Don’t

A Word Aptly Uttered Or Written Cannot Be Cut Away By An Axe.

What Is Stronger In Us — Passion Or Habit? Or Are All The Violent Impulses, All The Whirl Of Our Desires And Turbulent Passions, Only The Consequence Of Our Ardent Age, And Is It Only Through Youth That They Seem Deep And Shattering?

Ah, Steeds, Steeds, What Steeds! Has The Whirlwind A Home In Your Manes? Is There A Sensitive Ear, Alert As A Flame, In Your Every Fiber? Hearing The Familiar Song From Above, All In One Accord You Strain Your Bronze Chests And, Hooves Barely Touching The Ground, Turn Into Straight Lines Cleaving The Air, And All Inspired By God It Rushes On!

Always Think Of What Is Useful And Not What Is Beautiful. Beauty Will Come Of Its Own Accord.

Whatever You May Say, The Body Depends On The Soul.