The Dome Of Thought, The Palace Of

And Dreams In Their Development Have Breath, And Tears, And Tortures, And The Touch Of Joy; They Have A Weight Upon Our Waking Thoughts, They Take A Weight From Off Our Waking Toils, They Do Divide Our Being.

Let No Man Grumble When His Friends Fall Off, As They Will Do Like Leaves At The First Breeze; When Your Affairs Come Round, One Way Or T'other, Go To The Coffee House, And Take Another.

All Who Joy Would Win Must Share It. Happiness Was Born A Twin.

Frienship Is Eros...without Wings

Old Man! 'tis Not Difficult To Die.