The Simpsons Are Going To Delaware!

Come, Friend, You Too Must Die. Why Moan About It So? Even Patroclus Died, A Far, Far Better Man Than You. And Look, You See How Handsome And Powerful I Am? The Son Of A Great Man, The Mother Who Gave Me Life-- A Deathless Goddess. But Even For Me, I Tell You, Death And The Strong Force Of Fate Are Waiting. There Will Come A Dawn Or Sunset Or High Noon When A Man Will Take My Life In Battle Too-- Flinging A Spear Perhaps Or Whipping A Deadly Arrow Off His Bow.

Behold, On Wrong Swift Vengeance Waits; And Art Subdues The Strong.

So, The Gods Don't Hand Out All Their Gifts At Once, Not Build And Brains And Flowing Speech To All. One Man May Fail To Impress Us With His Looks But A God Can Crown His Words With Beauty, Charm, And Men Look On With Delight When He Speaks Out. Never Faltering, Filled With Winning Self-control, He Shines Forth At Assembly Grounds And People Gaze At Him Like A God When He Walks Through The Streets. Another Man May Look Like A Deathless One On High But There's Not A Bit Of Grace To Crown His Words. Just Like You, My Fine, Handsome Friend.

The Long Historian Of My Country's Woes.

Do Thou Restrain The Haughty Spirit In Thy Breast, For Better Far Is Gentle Courtesy.