Even Were Sleep Is Concerned, Too Much

The Only Monster Here Is The Gambling Monster That Has Enslaved Your Mother, And I Call Him Gamblor!

Among All Men On The Earth Bards Have A Share Of Honor And Reverence, Because The Muse Has Taught Them Songs And Loves The Race Of Bards.

Anger, Which, Far Sweeter Than Trickling Drops Of Honey, Rises In The Bosom Of A Man Like Smoke.

Two Urns On Jove's High Throne Have Ever Stood, The Source Of Evil One, And One Of Good; From Thence The Cup Of Mortal Man He Fills, Blessings To These, To Those Distributes Ills; To Most He Mingles Both.

Rock Stars, Is There Anything They Don't Know?