I Say No Wealth Is Worth My

Down From His Brow She Ran His Curls Like Thick Hyacinth Clusters Full Of Blooms

And Heaven, That Every Virtue Bears In Mind, E'en To The Ashes Of The Just Is Kind.

For A Friend With An Understanding Heart Is Worth No Less Than A Brother

Singing Is The Lowest Form Of Communication.

She Threw Into The Wine Which They Were Drinking A Drug Which Takes Away Grief And Passion And Brings Forgetfulness Of All Ills