A soul without reflection, like a pile Without inhabitant, to ruin runs.

Final Ruin fiercely drives Her ploughshare o'er creation.

A soul without reflection, like a pile Without inhabitant, to ruin runs.

They only babble who practise not reflection.

What we need now are heroes and heroines, about a million of them, one brave deed is worth a thousand books. Sentiment without action is the ruin of the soul.

Our culture runs on coffee and gasoline, the first often tasting like the second.