Military Men Are The Scourges

Love Is Always Love, Come Whence It May. A Heart That Beats At Your Approach, An Eye That Weeps When You Go Away Are Things So Rare, So Sweet, So Precious That They Must Never Be Despised.

Ale, Not Beer, In A Pewter Mug Was Comme Il Faut, The Only Thing For A Gentleman Of Letters, Worthy Of The Name, To Drink.

Solitude Is Indeed Dangerous For A Working Intelligence. We Need To Have Around Us People Who Think And Speak. When We Are Alone For A Long Time We People The Void With Phantoms

Conversation. What Is It? A Mystery! It's The Art Of Never Seeming Bored, Of Touching Everything With Interest, Of Pleasing With Trifles, Of Being Fascinating With Nothing At All.

Love Always Has Its Price, Come Whence It May.