I Long For Home, Long For The

Generations Of Men Are Like The Leaves. In Winter, Winds Blow Them Down To Earth, But Then, When Spring Season Comes Again, The Budding Wood Grows More. And So With Men: One Generation Grows, Another Dies Away.

The Grecian Ladies Counted Their Age From Their Marriage, Not Their Birth.

Men Grow Tired Of Sleep, Love, Singing And Dancing Sooner Than Of War.

Kids Are Great. You Can Teach Them To Hate What You Hate And, With The Internet And All, They Practically Raise Themselves.

Reproach Is Infinite, And Knows No End So Voluble A Weapon Is The Tongue; Wounded, We Wound; And Neither Side Can Fail For Every Man Has Equal Strength To Rail.