Tell That To The Marines - The

Great Talent Has Always A Little Madness Mixed Up With It.

Time Rolls His Ceaseless Course.

Hard Toil Can Roughen Form And Face, And Want Call Quench The Eye's Bright Grace.

He That Would Soothe Sorrow Must Not Argue On The Vanity Of The Most Deceitful Hopes.

From My Experience, Not One In Twenty Marries The First Love; We Build Statues Of Snow And Weep To See Them Melt.