“Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,Before we too into Dust descend;Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie,Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and - sans End!”

“Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,Before we too into the Dust descend;Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lieSans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and--sans End!Alike for those who for To-day prepare,And those that after some To-morrow stare,A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries"Fools! your Reward is neither Here nor There.”

“Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss'dOf the Two Worlds so wisely - they are thrustLike foolish Prophets forth; their Words to ScornAre scatter'd, and their Mouths are stopt with Dust.”

“And the wind blows, the dust clouds darken the desert blue, pale sand and red dust drift across the asphalt trails and tumbleweeds fill the arroyos. Good-bye, come again. (p. 34)”

“Each word's evocative value or virtue, its individual power of touching springs in the mind and of initiating visions, becomes a treasure to revel in. Besides this hold on affection a word may well have about it the glamorous prestige of high adventures in great company. Think of that the plain word "dust" calls to mind. "Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was." "Dust hath closed Helen's eye." "All follow this and come to dust." "The way to dusty death." So, to the lover of words, each word may be not a precious stone only, but one that has shone on Solomon's temple or in Cleopatra's hair.”

“Last scene of all that ends this strange, eventful history,is second childishness and mere oblivion.I am sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.”

“And if the Wine you drink, the Lip you press,End in the Nothing all Things end in - Yes -Then fancy while Thou art, Thou art but whatThou shalt be - Nothing - though shalt not be less.”