Sweet Sleep Fell Upon His Eyelids, Unwakeful,

The Strong Must Protect The Sweet.

I Didn't Lie! I Just Created Fiction With My Mouth!

So It Is That The Gods Do Not Give All Men Gifts Of Grace - Neither Good Looks Nor Intelligence Nor Eloquence.

On These Sands And In The Clefts Of The Rocks, In The Depths Of The Sea, In The Creaking Of The Pines, You'll Spy Secret Footprints And Catch Far-off Voices From The Homecoming Celebration. This Land Still Longs For Odysseus.

I War Not With The Dead.