Be Still My Heart; Thou Hast Known

Blame The Guy Who Doesn't Speak Engish.

Now From His Breast Into The Eyes The Ache Of Longing Mounted, And He Wept At Last, His Dear Wife, Clear And Faithful, In His Arms, Longed For As The Sunwarmed Earth Is Longed For By A Swimmer Spent In Rough Water Where His Ship Went Down Under Poseidon's Blows, Gale Winds And Tons Of Sea. Few Men Can Keep Alive Through A Big Serf To Crawl, Clotted With Brine, On Kindly Beaches In Joy, In Joy, Knowing The Abyss Behind: And So She Too Rejoiced, Her Gaze Upon Her Husband, Her White Arms Round Him Pressed As Though Forever.

First You Don't Want Me To Get The Pony, Then You Want Me To Take It Back. Make Up Your Mind!

A Decent Boldness Ever Meets With Friends.

She Threw Into The Wine Which They Were Drinking A Drug Which Takes Away Grief And Passion And Brings Forgetfulness Of All Ills