The Whims Of Youth Break All The

Sensitive Love Letters Are My Specialty. 'dear Baby, Welcome To Dumpsville. Population: You.'

Men In Their Generations Are Like The Leaves Of The Trees. The Wind Blows And One Year's Leaves Are Scattered On The Ground; But The Trees Burst Into Bud And Put On Fresh Ones When The Spring Comes Round.

't Is Fortune Gives Us Birth, But Jove Alone Endues The Soul With Worth.

Guns Aren't Toys! They're For Family Protection, Hunting Dangerous Or Delicious Animals, And Keeping The King Of England Out Of Your Face!

The Gods, Likening Themselves To All Kinds Of Strangers, Go In Various Disguises From City To City, Observing The Wrongdoing And The Righteousness Of Men.