If It Will Feed Nothing Else, It

A Pal Is One That Is Aware You While You Are, Understands Where You Have Already Been, Accepts Whatever You Are Becoming, And Continue To, Carefully Means That You Can Develop.

To Show An Unfelt Sorrow Is An Office Which The False Man Does Easy.

O Sleep! O Gentle Sleep! Nature's Soft Nurse.

Then Was I As A Tree Whose Boughs Did Bend With Fruit; But In One Night, A Storm Or Robbery, Call It What You Will, Shook Down My Mellow Hangings, Nay, My Leaves, And Left Me Bare To Weather.

The Weakest Kind Of Fruit Drops Earliest To The Ground.