It Is Wrong To Sorrow Without Ceasing.

For They Imagined As They Wished--that It Was A Wild Shot,/ An Unintended Killing--fools, Not To Comprehend/ They Were Already In The Grip Of Death./ But Glaring Under His Brows Odysseus Answered: 'you Yellow Dogs, You Thought I'd Never Make It/ Home From The Land Of Troy. You Took My House To Plunder,/ Twisted My Maids To Serve Your Beds. You Dared/ Bid For My Wife While I Was Still Alive./ Contempt Was All You Had For The Gods Who Rule Wide Heaven,/ Contempt For What Men Say Of You Hereafter./ Your Last Hour Has Come. You Die In Blood.

When I Was Seventeen I Drank Some Very Good Beer I Drank Some Very Good Beer I Purchased With A Fake Id My Name Was Brian Mcgee I Stayed Up Listening To Queen When I Was Seventeen

But Sure The Eye Of Time Beholds No Name, So Blest As Thine In All The Rolls Of Fame.

It's Disgraceful How These Humans Blame The Gods. They Say Their Tribulations Come From Us, When They Themselves, Through Their Own Foolishness, Bring Hardships Which Are Not Decreed By Fate.

All Strangers And Beggars Are From Zeus, And A Gift, Though Small, Is Precious.