They Fought The Enemy, We

One Must Be As Clear As One's Natural Reticence Allows One To Be.

Excess Is The Common Substitute For Energy.

We Don't Like Flowers That Do Not Wilt; They Must Die, And Nine She-camel Hairs Aid Memory.

I'm Troubled. I'm Dissatisfied. I'm Irish.

The Mind Is An Enchanting Thing Is An Enchanted Thing, Like The Glaze On A Katydid-wing Subdivided By Sun Till The Nettings Are Legion.