Listen My Children And You Shall Hear,

No Action, Whether Foul Or Fair, Is Ever Done, But It Leaves Somewhere A Record, Written By Fingers Ghostly, As A Blessing Or A Curse, And Mostly In The Greater Weakness Or Greater Strength Of The Acts Which Follow It.

With Useless Endeavour Forever, Forever, Is Sisyphus Rolling His Stone Up The Mountain!

The Lowest Ebb Is The Turn Of The Tide.

Then Fell Upon The House A Sudden Gloom, A Shadow On Those Features Fair And Thin. And Softly, From The Hushed And Darkened Room, Two Angels Issued, Where But One Went In.

And When She Was Good She Was Very Very Good. But When She Was Bad She Was Horrid.