Man is a noble animal, splendid in ashes, and pompous in the grave. >>
Come, fair repentance, daughter of the skies! Soft harbinger of soon r >>
We all labor against our own cure, for death is the cure of all diseas >>
Luckless is the country in which the symbols of procreation are the ob >>
It is so characteristic, that just when the mechanics of reproduction >>
Media mystifications should not obfuscate a simple, perceivable fact; >>
I could be content that we might procreate like trees, without conjunction, or that there were any way to perpetuate the world without this trivial and vulgar way of coition.