Many Dream Not To Find, Neither Deserve,

But Love That Comes Too Late, Like A Remorseful Pardon Slowly Carried, To The Great Sender Turns A Sour Offense, Crying, 'that's Good That's Gone.

Tis In Ourselves That We Are Thus Or Thus. Our Bodies Are Our Gardens To The Which Our Wills Are Gardeners.

What's Done Is Done. The Joy Is In The Doing.

And Either Victory, Or Else A Grave.

Honesty Is The Best Policy. If I Lose Mine Honor, I Lose Myself.