And Empty Words Are Evil.

I Don't Know How Much Longer I Can Complain.

Even A Fool Learns Something Once It Hits Him.

Like Leaves On Trees The Race Of Man Is Found,- Now Green In Youth, Now Withering On The Ground; Another Race The Following Spring Supplies: They Fall Successive, And Successive Rise.

Reproach Is Infinite, And Knows No End So Voluble A Weapon Is The Tongue; Wounded, We Wound; And Neither Side Can Fail For Every Man Has Equal Strength To Rail.

Bear Patiently, My Heart, For You Have Suffered Heavier Things.