I Want To Be Alone With My

Better To Flee From Death Than Feel Its Grip.

Two Urns On Jove's High Throne Have Ever Stood, The Source Of Evil One, And One Of Good; From Thence The Cup Of Mortal Man He Fills, Blessings To These, To Those Distributes Ills; To Most He Mingles Both.

Look Now How Mortals Are Blaming The Gods, For They Say That Evils Come From Us, But In Fact They Themselves Have Woes Beyond Their Share Because Of Their Own Follies.

By Jove The Stranger And The Poor Are Sent, And What To Those We Give, To Jove Is Lent.

You Know Those Balls That They Put On Car Antennas So You Can Find Them In The Parking Lot? Those Should Be On Every Car!