No Man Or Woman Born, Coward Or

Singing Is The Lowest Form Of Communication.

Who Ne'er Knew Salt, Or Heard The Billows Roar.

All Deaths Are Hateful To Miserable Mortals, But The Most Pitiable Death Of All Is To Starve.

Beyond His Strength No Man Can Fight, Although He Be Eager.

Two Urns On Jove's High Throne Have Ever Stood, The Source Of Evil One, And One Of Good; From Thence The Cup Of Mortal Man He Fills, Blessings To These, To Those Distributes Ills; To Most He Mingles Both.