An Insult Directed At The

Why, I'd Like Nothing Better Than To Achieve Some Bold Adventure, Worthy Of Our Trip.

Chorus Of Women: [...] Oh! My Good, Gallant Lysistrata, And All My Friends, Be Ever Like A Bundle Of Nettles; Never Let You Anger Slacken; The Wind Of Fortune Blown Our Way.

Your Lost Friends Are Not Dead, But Gone Before, Advanced A Stage Or Two Upon That Road Which You Must Travel In The Steps They Trod.

Ignorance Can Be Cured, But Stupidity Is Forever

These Impossible Women! How They Do Get Around Us! The Poet Was Right: Can't Live With Them, Or Without Them!