From His Tongue Flowed Speech Sweeter Than

So Peaceful Shalt Thou End Thy Blissful Days, And Steal Thyself From Life By Slow Decays.

To-morrow We Embark Upon The Boundless Sea.

Never To Be Cast Away Are The Gifts Of The Gods, Magnificent, Which They Give Of Their Own Will, No Man Could Have Them For Wanting Them.

Ah, Beer, My One Weakness. My Achille's Heel, If You Will.

Insignificant Mortals, Who Are As Leaves Are, And Now Flourish And Grow Warm With Life, And Feed On What The Ground Gives, But Then Again Fade Away And Are Dead.