We Mortals Hear Only The News, And

The Roaring Seas And Many A Dark Range Of Mountains Lie Between Us.

Dreams Surely Are Difficult, Confusing, And Not Everything In Them Is Brought To Pass For Mankind. For Fleeting Dreams Have Two Gates: One Is Fashioned Of Horn And One Of Ivory. Those Which Pass Through The One Of Sawn Ivory Are Deceptive, Bringing Tidings Which Come To Nought, But Those Which Issue From The One Of Polished Horn Bring True Results When A Mortal Sees Them.

I Guess Some People Never Change... Or, They Quickly Change And Then Quickly Change Back.

But You Can't Stop At One, You Wanna Drink Another Woman!

Rage - Goddess, Sing The Rage Of Peleus' Son Achilles, Murderous, Doomed, That Cost The Achaeans Countless Losses, Hurling Down To The House Of Death So Many Sturdy Souls, Great Fighters' Souls, But Made Their Bodies Carrion, Feasts For The Dogs And Birds, And The Will Of Zeus Was Moving Toward Its End. Begin, Muse, When The Two First Broke And Clashed, Agamemnon Lord Of Men And Brilliant Achilles.