Luckier Than One's Neighbor, But Still Not

We Look For Good On Earth And Cannot Recognize It When Met.

He Is Life's Liberating Force. He Is Release Of Limbs And Communion Through Dance. He Is Laughter, And Music In Flutes. He Is Repose From All Cares -- He Is Sleep! When His Blood Bursts From The Grape And Flows Across Tables Laid In His Honor To Fuse With Our Blood, He Gently, Gradually, Wraps Us In Shadows Of Ivy-cool Sleep.

No One Can Confidently Say That He Will Still Be Living Tomorrow.

Human Misery Must Somewhere Have A Stop; There Is No Wind That Always Blows A Storm; Great Good Fortune Comes To Failure In The End. All Is Change; All Yields Its Place And Goes; To Persevere, Trusting In What Hopes He Has, Is Courage In A Man. The Coward Despairs.

Learned We May Be With Another Man's Learning: We Can Only Be Wise With Wisdom Of Our Own: [i Hate A Sage Who Is Not Wise For Himself]