And Empty Words Are Evil.

This Is The Way I've Always Thought It Should Be. We've Always Blamed Ourselves, But I Guess We Know What Cylinder Wasn't Firing!

We All Scribble Poetry.

Without Tv, It's Hard To Know When One Day Ends And Another Begins.

Even The Bravest Cannot Fight Beyond His Power

I Wish That Strife Would Vanish Away From Among Gods And Mortals, And Gall, Which Makes A Man Grow Angry For All His Great Mind, That Gall Of Anger That Swarms Like Smoke Inside Of A Man's Heart And Becomes A Thing Sweeter To Him By Far Than The Dripping Of Honey.