. . . he recommended to all those who might be impressed with a sense of their importance to bury a copy or copies of each work properly...

How about you?

Tirades and conniptions are the usual fates.

What sense is there, in tempting fates?

Now a model for World’s future In the climate that we nurture.

Not so much taught intelligence as luck that spots the jewel in the ambient muck.

There is, I fear, no simple answer.

There’s time enough for nothing if love dies.

What’s there to say? Things could be worse!

I’m tingerig—not bold enough for oyster-gulping times!

Green ideas sleep furiously!

But this all comes from being clever!

Our reasoning will never turn to answers we don’t wish to learn!

O Beelzebub, there’s so much sand!

I tower trillioned over Gaia's shards!