We See Which Way The Stream Of

This Is A Gift That I Have, Simple, Simple; A Foolish Extravagant Spirit Full Of Forms, Figures, Shapes, Objects, Ideas, Apprehensions, Motions, Revolutions; These Are Begot In The Ventricle Of Memory, Nourished In The Womb Of Pia Mater, And Delivered Upon The Mellowing Of Occasion.

There Is A Tide In The Affairs Of Men

Lord Bacon Told Sir Edward Coke When He Was Boasting, The Less You Speak Of Your Greatness, The More Shall I Think Of It.

His Steeds To Water At Those Springs On Chaliced Flowers That Lies; And Winking Mary-buds Begin To Ope Their Golden Eyes: With Every Thing That Pretty Is, My Lady Sweet, Arise.

Give Thanks For What You Are Today And Go On Fighting For What You Gone Be Tomorrow