I Have Done Many Impious Things--no Great

She Tells Her Love While Half Asleep, In The Dark Hours, With Half-words Whispered Low: As Earth Stirs In Her Winter Sleep And Puts Out Grass And Flowers Despite The Snow, Despite The Falling Snow.

The Remarkable Thing About Shakespeare Is That He Really Is Very Good, In Spite Of All The People Who Say He Is Very Good.

Love Without Hope, As When The Young Bird-catcher Swept Off His Tall Hat To The Squire's Own Daughter, So Let The Imprisoned Larks Escape And Fly Singing About Her Head, As She Rode By.

Before An Attack, The Platoon Pools All Its Available Cash And The Survivors Divide It Up Afterwards. Those Who Are Killed Can't Complain, The Wounded Would Have Given Far More Than That To Escape As They Have, And The Unwounded Regard The Money As A Consolation Prize For Still Being Here.

Hate Is A Fear, And Fear Is Rot That Cankers Root And Fruit Alike, Fight Cleanly Then, Hate Not, Fear Not, Strike With No Madness When You Strike.