Who Love Too Much, Hate In The

A Gun Is Not A Weapon! It's A Tool, Like A Butcher's Knife, Or A Harpoon, Or An Alligator.

[b]ut It Is Only What Happens, When They Die, To All Mortals. The Sinews No Longer Hold The Flesh And The Bones Together, And Once The Spirit Has Let The White Bones, All The Rest Of The Body Is Made Subject To The Fire's Strong Fury, But The Soul Flitters Out Like A Dream And Flies Away.

Nobody Gets Into Heaven Without A Glowstick.

Do Thou Restrain The Haughty Spirit In Thy Breast, For Better Far Is Gentle Courtesy.

But Curb Thou The High Spirit In Thy Breast, For Gentle Ways Are Best, And Keep Aloof From Sharp Contentions.