The Man Had Arrived At That Stage

Do Not Weep, Maiden, For War Is Kind. Because Your Lover Threw Wild Hands Toward The Sky And The Affrighted Steed Ran On Alone, Do Not Weep. War Is Kind. Hoarse, Booming Drums Of The Regiment, Little Souls Who Thirst For Fight, These Men Were Born To Drill And Die. The Unexplained Glory Flies Above Them, Great Is The Battle-god, Great, And His Kingdom -a Field Where A Thousand Corpses Lie. Do Not Weep, Babe, For War Is Kind.

The Voice Of God Whispers In The Heart So Softly That The Soul Pauses, Making No Noise, And Strives For These Melodies, Distant, Sighing, Like Faintest Breath, And All The Being Is Still To Hear.

Every Sin Is The Result Of Collaboration.

A Singular Disadvantage Of The Sea Lies In The Fact That After Successfully Surmounting One Wave You Discover Another Behind It Just As Important And Just As Nervously Anxious To Do Something Effective In The Way Of Swamping Boats. In A Ten-foot Dinghy One Can Get An Idea Of The Resources Of The Sea In The Line Of Waves That Is Not Probable To The Average Experience, Which Is Never At Sea In A Dinghy.

Tradition, Thou Art For Suckling Children, Thou Art The Enlivening Milk For Babes, But No Meat For Men Is In Thee.