Prosperity Is Full Of Friends.

This Is Slavery, Not To Speak One's Thought.

Do Not Grieve So Much For A Husband Lost That It Wastes Away Your Life.

He Is Life's Liberating Force. He Is Release Of Limbs And Communion Through Dance. He Is Laughter, And Music In Flutes. He Is Repose From All Cares -- He Is Sleep! When His Blood Bursts From The Grape And Flows Across Tables Laid In His Honor To Fuse With Our Blood, He Gently, Gradually, Wraps Us In Shadows Of Ivy-cool Sleep.

No One Is Happy All His Life Long.

Where There Are Two, One Cannot Be Wretched, And One Not.