Victory Passes Back And Forth Between Men.

There Is Nothing More Dread And More Shameless Than A Woman Who Plans Such Deeds In Her Heart As The Foul Deed Which She Plotted When She Contrived Her Husband's Murder.

I Long For Home, Long For The Sight Of Home.

Rage - Goddess, Sing The Rage Of Peleus' Son Achilles, Murderous, Doomed, That Cost The Achaeans Countless Losses, Hurling Down To The House Of Death So Many Sturdy Souls, Great Fighters' Souls, But Made Their Bodies Carrion, Feasts For The Dogs And Birds, And The Will Of Zeus Was Moving Toward Its End. Begin, Muse, When The Two First Broke And Clashed, Agamemnon Lord Of Men And Brilliant Achilles.

Two Diverse Gates There Are Of Bodiless Dreams, These Of Sawn Ivory, And Those Of Horn. Such Dreams As Issue Where The Ivory Gleams Fly Without Fate, And Turn Our Hopes To Scorn. But Dreams Which Issue Through The Burnished Horn, What Man Soe'er Beholds Them On His Bed, These Work With Virtue And Of Truth Are Born.

I'm Not A Bath Man Myself. More Of A Cologne Man.