When The Suicide Arrived At The Sky,

The Wayfarer, Perceiving The Pathway To Truth, Was Struck With Astonishment. It Was Thickly Grown With Weeds. "ha," He Said, "i See That None Has Passed Here In A Long Time." Later He Saw That Each Weed Was A Singular Knife. "well," He Mumbled At Last, "doubtless There Are Other Roads.

Tell Her This And More,— That The King Of The Seas Weeps Too, Old, Helpless Man. The Bustling Fates Heap His Hands With Corpses Until He Stands Like A Child With Surplus Of Toys.

The Fact Has Not Created In Me A Sense Of Obligation.

A Man Feared A Man Feared That He Might Find An Assassin; Another That He Might Find A Victim. One Was More Wise Than The Other.

The Man Had Arrived At That Stage Of Drunkenness Where Affection Is Felt For The Universe.