Just Once I'd Like Someone To Call

Dreams Surely Are Difficult, Confusing, And Not Everything In Them Is Brought To Pass For Mankind. For Fleeting Dreams Have Two Gates: One Is Fashioned Of Horn And One Of Ivory. Those Which Pass Through The One Of Sawn Ivory Are Deceptive, Bringing Tidings Which Come To Nought, But Those Which Issue From The One Of Polished Horn Bring True Results When A Mortal Sees Them.

Everything Is More Beautiful Because We're Doomed. You Will Never Be Lovelier Than You Are Now. We Will Never Be Here Again.

The Wordy Tale, Once Told, Were Hard To Tell Again.

[but] Age, The Common Enemy Of Mankind, Has Laid His Hand Upon You; Would That It Had Fallen Upon Some Other, And That You Were Still Young.

There Is A Time For Many Words, And There Is Also A Time For Sleep.