I'm Like That Guy Who Single-handedly Built

Who Love Too Much, Hate In The Like Extreme.

His Descent Was Like Nightfall.

O Friends, Be Men; So Act That None May Feel Ashamed To Meet The Eyes Of Other Men. Think Each One Of This Children And His Wife, His Home, His Parents, Living Yet And Dead. For Them, The Absent Ones, I Supplicate, And Bid You Rally Here, And Scorn To Fly.

The Windy Satisfaction Of The Tongue.

If It Doesn't Have Siamese Twins In A Jar, It Is Not A Fair.