The More Precious His Gift,

This Is A Most Unfortunate Affair, And Will Probably Be Much Talked Of. But We Must Stem The Tide Of Idle Chatter, And Pour Into Our Wounded Bosoms The Soothing Balm Of Vengeance.

Hug Your Children...kiss Your Mothers And Fathers, Your Brothers And Sisters. Tell Them How Much You Love Them, Every Day. Because Every Day Is The Last Day. Every Light Casts A Shadow. And Only The Gods Know When The Darkness Will Find Us.

We May All Deserve Hell, But Some Of Us Deserve It Sooner Than Others.

My Men Have Suffered Greatly (from Boredom), Much Blood Has Been Shed (by Mosquitoes), And I Have Swung My Ax Mightily (chopping Firewood). Surely We Have Earned Our Place In The Annals Of History—for Never Has There Been So Little War In A War.

Without Death,' He Answered, 'life Is Meaningless. It Is A Story That Can Never Be Told. A Song That Can Never Be Sung. For How Would One Finish It?