Bear Patiently, My Heart, For You Have

Just Once I'd Like Someone To Call Me 'sir' Without Adding 'you're Making A Scene.'

There Is A Fullness Of All Things, Even Of Sleep And Love.

[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.

Whatever Day Makes Man A Slave, Takes Half His Worth Away.

It Is Tedious To Tell Again Tales Already Plainly Told.