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1 " Nothing can be loved too much,but all things can be lovedin the wrong way. "
― W.H. Auden , Thank You, Fog
2 " Ladies and gentlemen, you have made most remarkableProgress, and progress, I agree, is a boon;You have built more automobiles than are parkable,Crashed the sound-barrier, and may very soonBe setting up juke-boxes on the Moon:But I beg to remind you that, despite all that,I, Death, still am and will always be Cosmocrat.Still I sport with the young and daring; at my whim,The climber steps upon the rotten boulder,The undertow catches boys as they swim,The speeder steers onto the slippery shoulder:With others I wait until they are olderBefore assigning, according to my humor,To one a coronary, to one a tumor.Liberal my views upon religion and race;Tax-posture, credit-rating, social ambitionCut no ice with me. We shall meet face to face,Despite the drugs and lies of your physician,The costly euphenisms of the mortician:Westchester matron and Bowery bum,Both shall dance with me when I rattle my drum. "
3 " He still loves lifeBut O O O O how he wishesThe good Lord would take him. "