There Is No Greater Fame For A

We Men Are Wretched Things.

Take Thou Thy Arms And Come With Me, For We Must Quit Ourselves Like Men, And Strive To Air Our Cause, Although We Be But Two. Great Is The Strength Of Feeble Arms Combined, And We Can Combat Even With The Brave.

Even Were Sleep Is Concerned, Too Much Is A Bad Thing.

[i]t Is The Wine That Leads Me On, The Wild Wine That Sets The Wisest Man To Sing At The Top Of His Lungs, Laugh Like A Fool – It Drives The Man To Dancing... It Even Tempts Him To Blurt Out Stories Better Never Told.

How Vain, Without The Merit, Is The Name.