She Was A Lovely Blonde, With Fine

God Made Only Water, But Man Made Wine.

It Is Only Barbarous Nations Who Have A Sudden Growth After A Victory

I Repeat, Whether We Be Italians Or Frenchmen, Misery Concerns Us All.

God In His Harmony Has Equal Ends For Cedar That Resists And Reed That Bends; For Good It Is A Woman Sometimes Rules, Holds In Her Hand The Power, And Manners, Schools, And Laws, And Mind; Succeeding Master Proud, With Gentle Voice And Smiles She Leads The Crowd, The Somber Human Troop.

At A Certain Depth Of Distress, The Poor, In Their Stupor, Groan No Longer Over Evil, And Are No Longer Thankful For Good.