Men Are So Quick To Blame The

Like A Girl, A Baby Running After Her Mother, Begging To Be Picked Up, And She Tugs On Her Skirts, Holding Her Back As She Tries To Hurry Off—all Tears, Fawning Up At Her, Till She Takes Her In Her Arms… That’s How You Look, Patroclus, Streaming Live Tears.

For I Am Yearning To Visit The Limits Of The All-nurturing Earth, And Oceans, From Whom The Gods Are Sprung.

I Detest The Man Who Hides On Thing In The Depths Of His Heart And Speaks Forth Another.

Some Things You Will Think Of Yourself,...some Things God Will Put Into Your Mind

It Is Equally Wrong To Speed A Guest Who Does Not Want To Go, And To Keep One Back Who Is Eager. You Ought To Make Welcome The Present Guest, And Send Forth The One Who Wishes To Go.