To This Generation I Would Say: Memorize

Such Phantom Blossoms Palely Shining Over The Lifeless Boughs Of Time.

Those Who First Oppose A Good Work, Seize It And Make It Their Own, When The Cornerstone Is Laid And Memorial Tablets Are Erected.

A Giant As We Hoped, In Truth, A Dwarf; A Barrel Of Slop That Shines On Lethe's Wharf', Which At First Seemed A Vessel With Sweet Wine For Thirsty Lips. So Down The Swift Decline You Went Through Sloven Spirit, Craven Heart And Cynic Indolence. And Here The Art Of Molding Clay Has Caught You For The Nonce And Made Your Shame Our Shame ~ Your Head In Bronze!

The Tongue May Be An Unruly Member-- But Silence Poisons The Soul.

Beware Of The Man Who Rises To Power From One Suspender.