I go dreaming into the future, where I see nothing, nothing. I have no plans, no idea, no project, and, what is worse, no ambition. Something – the eternal ‘what’s the use?’ – sets its bronze barrier across every avenue that I open up in the realm of hypothesis.
“What is the world? tell, Worldling (if thou know it).
If it be good, why do all ills o’erflow it?
If it be bad, why dost thou like it so?
If it be sweet, how come sit bitter then?
If it be bitter, what bewitcheth men?
If it be friend, why kills it (as a foe)
Vain-minded men that over-love and lust it?
If it be foe, Fondling, how dar’st thou trust it?”
Joshua Sylvester | “Mundus Qualis”