Wise To Resolve, And Patient

Pray, For All Men Need The Aid Of The Gods.

The Skin Of The Coward Changes Color All The Time, He Can't Get A Grip On Himself, He Can't Sit Still, He Squats And Rocks, Shifting His Weight From Foot To Foot, His Heart Racing, Pounding Inside The Fellow's Ribs, His Teeth Chattering. He Dreads Some Grisly Death. But The Skin Of A Brave Soldier Never Blanches. He's All Control. Tense But No Great Fear.

I Was Working On A Flat Tax Proposal And Accidentally Proved There Was No God.

Sing, O Muse, Of The Rage Of Achilles, Son Of Peleus, That Brought Countless Ills Upon The Achaeans.

True Friends Appear Less Moved Than Counterfeit.