A Woman Is A Lot Like A

Just Are The Ways Of Heaven; From Heaven Proceed The Woes Of Man: Heaven Doom'd The Greeks To Bleed.

Men In Their Generations Are Like The Leaves Of The Trees. The Wind Blows And One Year's Leaves Are Scattered On The Ground; But The Trees Burst Into Bud And Put On Fresh Ones When The Spring Comes Round.

The Fates Have Given Mankind A Patient Soul.

And Here I Am Using My Own Lungs Like A Sucker.

Evil Deeds Do Not Prosper; The Slow Man Catches Up With The Swift.