Time Is Lord Of Thee: Thy Wealth,

The Juice Of The Grape Is The Liquid Quintessence Of Concentrated Sunbeams.

The Present Is Our Own; But While We Speak, We Cease From Its Possession, And Resign The Stage We Tread On, To Another Race, As Vain, And Gay, And Mortal As Ourselves.

I Like The Immaterial World. I Like To Live Among Thoughts And Images Of The Past And The Possible, And Even Of The Impossible, Now And Then.

They Have Poisoned The Thames And Killed The Fish In The River. A Little Further Development Of The Same Wisdom And Science Will Complete The Poisoning Of The Air, And Kill The Dwellers On The Banks. I Almost Think It Is The Destiny Of Science To Exterminate The Human Race.

I Never Failed To Convince An Audience That The Best Thing They Could Do Was To Go Away.