The Grecian Ladies Counted Their Age From

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.

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

All Men Owe Honor To The Poets - Honor And Awe; For They Are Dearest To The Muse Who Puts Upon Their Lips The Ways Of Life.

Like Strength Is Felt From Hope, And From Despair.

I'm A White Male, Age 18 To 49. Everyone Listens To Me, No Matter How Dumb My Suggestions Are.