If Any Man Obeys The

Still, We Will Let All This Be A Thing Of The Past, Though It Hurts Us, And Beat Down By Constraint The Anger That Rises Inside Us. Now I Am Making An End Of My Anger. It Does Not Become Me, Unrelentingly To Rage On

We Got A Little Rule Back Home: If It's Brown, Drink It Down. If It's Black, Send It Back.

In Every Sorrowing Soul I Pour'd Delight, And Poverty Stood Smiling In My Sight.

Fear, O Achilles, The Wrath Of Heaven; Think On Your Own Father And Have Compassion Upon Me, Who Am The More Pitiable

...he'll Never Lie - The Man Is Far Too Wise.