I Am Surrounded By Flatterers And Fools.

All Men Are Fools, If Truth Be Told, But The Ones In Motley Are More Amusing Than Ones With Crowns.

Have A Care How You Speak To Me, Imp. Doubtless He Meant To Sound Threatening, But That Absurd Wisp Of A Mustache Ruined The Effect.

But The Real Enemy Is The Cold. It Steals Up On You Quieter Than Will, And At First You Shiver And Your Teeth Chatter And You Stamp Your Feet And Dream Of Mulled Wine And Nice Hot Fires. It Burns, It Does. Nothing Burns Like The Cold. But Only For A While. Then It Gets Inside You And Starts To Fill You Up, And After A While You Don't Have The Strength To Fight It. It's Easier Just To Sit Down Ot Go To Sleep. They Say You Don't Feel Any Pain Toward The End. First You Go Weak And Drowsy, And Everything Starts To Fade, And Then It's Like Sinking Into A Sea Of Warm Milk. Peaceful, Like.

If I Took It Away, No Doubt I'd Find A Morningstar Hidden Under Your Pillow Within A Fortnight. Try Not To Stab Your Sister, Whatever The Provocation.

Summer Is The Time For Squabbles. In Winter, We Must Protect One Another, Keep Each Other Warm, Share Our Strengths.