There Is No Fouler Fiend Than A

Now From His Breast Into The Eyes The Ache Of Longing Mounted, And He Wept At Last, His Dear Wife, Clear And Faithful, In His Arms, Longed For As The Sunwarmed Earth Is Longed For By A Swimmer Spent In Rough Water Where His Ship Went Down Under Poseidon's Blows, Gale Winds And Tons Of Sea. Few Men Can Keep Alive Through A Big Serf To Crawl, Clotted With Brine, On Kindly Beaches In Joy, In Joy, Knowing The Abyss Behind: And So She Too Rejoiced, Her Gaze Upon Her Husband, Her White Arms Round Him Pressed As Though Forever.

Why Have You Come To Me Here, Dear Heart, With All These Instructions? I Promise You I Will Do Everything Just As You Ask. But Come Closer. Let Us Give In To Grief, However Briefly, In Each Other's Arms.

It Is A Wise Child That Knows His Own Father. [lat., Nondum Enim Quisquam Suum Parentem Ipse Cognosvit.]

Better To Live Or Die, Once And For All, Than Die By Inches.

If You Don't Like Your Job, You Don't Strike! You Just Go In Every Day, And Do It Really Half Assed. That's The American Way.