If The Aunt Of The

One Half Of My Head, From The Top Of My Skull To The Cleft Of My Jaw, Hammers, Bangs, Sizzles While The Other Half, Serene And Content, Looks On At The Agony Next Door.

We're All Islands Shouting Lies To Each Other Across Seas Of Misunderstanding.

For All We Take We Must Pay, But The Price Is Cruel High.

Yet There Be Certain Times In A Young Man’s Life, When, Through Great Sorrow Or Sin, All The Boy In Him Is Burnt And Seared Away So That He Passes At One Step To The More Sorrowful State Of Manhood

Teach Us Delight In Simple Things, And Mirth That Has No Bitter Springs.