In hindsight, I wish I had done more.
But I've a rendezvous with Death At midnight in some flaming town, When Spring trips north again this year, And I to my pledged word am true, I shall not fail that rendezvous.
From a boy I gloated on existence. Earth to me Seemed all-sufficient and my sojourn there One trembling opportunity for joy.
So die as though your funeral Ushered you through the doors that led Into a stately banquet hall Where heroes banqueted.
I have a rendezvous with death. . . I will not fail that rendezvous
At Earth's great market where Joy is trafficked in, Buy while thy purse yet swells with golden Youth.
Spirit of Beauty, whose sweet impulses, flung like rose of dawn across the sea, alone can flush the exalted consciousness with shafts of sensible divinity-light of the world, essential loveliness.
I don't mind trying it out and making sure something seems to work well.
Renunciation is always the ideal of every race; only other races do not know what they are made to do by nature unconsciously.
Remember when you tried to convince me to feed a poultry pie to the mallards in the park to see if you could breed a race of cannibal ducks?" "They ate it too," Will reminisced. "Bloodthirsty little beasts. Never trust a duck.
There is no 'love of God' for you unless you have repented or unless you do repent. Make no mistake about this. Do not rely or bank on God's love. It is only for the penitent; there is no entry into the kingdom of God except by repentance.