While We May Open The Books Of

In The Hill Country, Civilization Steals In Last, And The People Retain Much Of The Crude But Vigorous Mode Of Expression Of The Colonial Days And Earlier.

Money And Muscle, That's What I Want; To Be Able To Do Any Damned Thing I Want And Get Away With It. Money Won't Do That Altogether, Because If A Man Is A Weakling, All The Money In The World Won't Enable Him To Soak An Enemy Himself; On The Other Hand, Unless He Has Money He May Not Be Able To Get Away With It.

I Have Known Many Gods. He Who Denies Them Is As Blind As He Who Trusts Them Too Deeply. I See Not Beyond Death. Let Me Live While I Live; Let Me Know The Rich Juices Of Red Meat And Stinging Wine On My Palate, The Hot Embrace Of White Arms, The Mad Exultation Of Battle When The Blue Blades Flame And Crimson, And I Am Content. I Know This: If Life Is An Illusion, Then I Am No Less Than An Illusion, And Being Thus, The Illusion Is Real To Me. I Live, I Burn With Life, I Love, I Slay, And Am Content.

My Body Seems A Mere Encumbrance To Me; An Imbecillic Wagon, Hitched To The Horse Of Desire, Which Is The Soul.

Every Twinge Of Sensation, Even Of Agony, Was A Negation Of Death.