Open Your Mind Before Your Mouth

Your Lost Friends Are Not Dead, But Gone Before, Advanced A Stage Or Two Upon That Road Which You Must Travel In The Steps They Trod.

Hunger Knows No Friend But Its Feeder.

Weak Mortals, Chained To The Earth, Creatures Of Clay As Frail As The Foliage Of The Woods, You Unfortunate Race, Whose Life Is But Darkness, As Unreal As A Shadow, The Illusion Of A Dream.

The Children Now Love Luxury; They Have Bad Manners, Contempt For Authority; They Show Disrespect For Elders And Love Chatter In Place Of Exercise. Children Are Now Tyrants, Not The Servants Of Their Households. They No Longer Rise When Elders Enter The Room. They Contradict Their Parents, Chatter Before Company, Gobble Up Dainties At The Table, Cross Their Legs, And Tyrannize Their Teachers.

[y]ou [man] Are Fool Enough, It Seems, To Dare To War With [woman=] Me, When For Your Faithful Ally You Might Win Me Easily.