Life... Is A Paradise To What We

Th Abuse Of Greatness Is When It Disjoins Remorse From Power.

How Sweet The Moonlight Sleeps Upon This Bank Here We Will Sit, And Let The Sounds Of Music Creep In Our Ears; Soft Stillness, And The Night Become The Touches Of Sweet Harmony

Are You Up To Your Destiny?

Men Are April When They Woo, December When They Wed.

My Love's More Richer Than My Tongue.