Sometimes even the words disappear …

Reconstituting my lost blog — hoorah for the Internet Wayback Machine. I’ve lost some, but not much, given I’m such a lackadaisical soul. This is obviously the best of quotes to begin again with.

Let them pile up costly and lofty monuments–reaching heavenward; let the artist cut their names and virtues deep into the enduring granite; let the mechanic, with all his skill, set the foundations, yet the lettering will perish and the stone will crumble. Parasitic plants will fasten upon them; beneath their destroying grasp names and dates will disappear, and generations yet to come will be unable to tell whether they look upon the grave of a prince or upon that of a peddler–the narrow house of him who retired to the straw pallet of poverty, will not then be known from that of him who reclined upon the silken couch of affluence–

“Death levels all ranks,
And lays the shepherd’s crook beside the sceptre.”

From Nick Baba’s last drink, and other sketches by George Paul Goff. Pome by Edward Bulwer-Lytton (The Lady of Lyons).