What you ain't never understood is that I ain't got nothing, don't own nothing, ain't never really wanted nothing that wasn't for you. There ain't nothing as precious to me. . . There ain't nothing worth holding on to, money, dreams, nothing else--
The Reproductions of the living Ens From sires to sons, unknown to sex, commence. . . Unknown to sex the pregnant oyster swells, And coral-insects build their radiate shells. . . Birth after birth the line unchanging runs, And fathers live transmitted in their sons; Each passing year beholds the unvarying kinds, The same their manners, and the same their minds.