The Tongue Of Man Is A Twisty

See How God Ever Like With Like Doth Pair, And Still The Worthless Doth The Worthless Lead!

Down From His Brow She Ran His Curls Like Thick Hyacinth Clusters Full Of Blooms

Steel Itself Oft Lures A Man To Fight.

Two Diverse Gates There Are Of Bodiless Dreams, These Of Sawn Ivory, And Those Of Horn. Such Dreams As Issue Where The Ivory Gleams Fly Without Fate, And Turn Our Hopes To Scorn. But Dreams Which Issue Through The Burnished Horn, What Man Soe'er Beholds Them On His Bed, These Work With Virtue And Of Truth Are Born.

A Gun Is Not A Weapon! It's A Tool, Like A Butcher's Knife, Or A Harpoon, Or An Alligator.