The Best Way To Excape His Ire

One Wise Man's Verdict Outweighs All The Fools'.

A Man In Armour Is His Armour's Slave.

How Well I Know What I Mean To Do When The Long Dark Autumn Evenings Come, And Where, My Soul, Is Thy Pleasant Hue? With The Music Of All Thy Voices, Dumb In Life’s November Too! I Shall Be Found By The Fire, Suppose, O’er A Great Wise Book As Beseemeth Age, While The Shutters Flap As The Cross-wind Blows, And I Turn The Page, And I Turn The Page, Not Verse Now, Only Prose!

Strike When Thou Wilt, The Hour Of Rest, But Let My Last Days Be My Best.

What So Wild As Words Are?