Each Must Drain His Share Of Pleasure,

Many Of Our Cares Are But A Morbid Way Of Looking At Our Privileges

War Is The Only Game In Which Both Sides Lose.

In Peace, Love Tunes The Shepherd's Reed; In War, He Mounts The Warrior's Steed; In Halls, In Gay Attire Is Seen; In Hamlets, Dances On The Green. Love Rules The Court, The Camp, The Grove, And Men Below, And Saints Above; For Love Is Heaven, And Heaven Is Love.

Respect Was Mingled With Surprise, And The Stern Joy Which Warriors Feel In Foemen Worthy Of Their Steel.

From My Experience, Not One In Twenty Marries The First Love; We Build Statues Of Snow And Weep To See Them Melt.