To Err Is Human. To Loaf Is

Slaves Would Be Tyrants Were The Chance Theirs.

A Tempest Ceases, A Cyclone Passes Over, A Wind Dies Down, A Broken Mast Can Be Replaced, A Leak Can Be Stopped, A Fire Extinguished, But What Will Become Of This Enormous Brute Of Bronze?

I Am In The Night. There Is A Being Who Has Gone Away And Carried The Heavens With Her. Oh! To Be Laid Side By Side In The Same Tomb, Hand Clasped In Hand, And From Time To Time, In The Darkness, To Caress A Finger Gently, That Would Suffice For My Eternity.

We Are Given Up To Those Gods, Those Monsters, Those Giants, — Our Thoughts.

The Persistence Of An All-absorbing Idea Is Terrible.