What Greater Grief Than The Loss Of

There Is Just One Life For Each Of Us: Our Own.

Lady, The Sun's Light To Our Eyes Is Dear, And Fair The Tranquil Reaches Of The Sea, And Flowery Earth In May, And Bounding Waters; And So Right Many Fair Things I Might Praise; Yet Nothing Is So Radiant And So Fair As For Souls Childless, With Desire Sore-smitten, To See The Light Of Babes About The House.

Bodies Devoid Of Mind Are As Statues In The Market Place.

Life Is Short, Yet Sweet.

Forgive, Son; Men Are Men; They Needs Must Err.