This Year I Invested In Pumpkins. They've

Two Diverse Gates There Are Of Bodiless Dreams, These Of Sawn Ivory, And Those Of Horn. Such Dreams As Issue Where The Ivory Gleams Fly Without Fate, And Turn Our Hopes To Scorn. But Dreams Which Issue Through The Burnished Horn, What Man Soe'er Beholds Them On His Bed, These Work With Virtue And Of Truth Are Born.

Bad Herdsmen Waste The Flocks Which Thou Hast Left Behind.

Be Strong, Saith My Heart; I Am A Soldier; I Have Seen Worse Sights Than This.

Let Me Not Then Die Ingloriously And Without A Struggle, But Let Me First Do Some Great Thing That Shall Be Told Among Men Hereafter.

Ruin, Eldest Daughter Of Zeus, She Blinds Us All, That Fatal Madness—she With Those Delicate Feet Of Hers, Never Touching The Earth, Gliding Over The Heads Of Men To Trap Us All. She Entangles One Man, Now Another.