All Bayonets Are Bad.

Love, Unrequited, Robs Me Of My Rest: Love, Hopeless Love, My Ardent Soul Encumbers: Love, Nightmare-like, Lies Heavy On My Chest, And Weaves Itself Into My Midnight Slumbers!

Poverty Is Obsolete And Hunger Is Abolished

In All The Woes That Curse Our Race There Is A Lady In The Case.

There's A Fascination Frantic In A Ruin That's Romantic.

A Man Is But An Ass Who Fights In A Cuirass