I have three phobias which could I mute them would make my life as slick as a sonnet but as dull as ditch water: I hate to go to bed I hate to get up and I hate to be alone.
The less I behave like Whistler's mother the night before the more I look...
But the wicked passions of men's hearts alone seem strong enough to leave...
Lives of great men all remind us we can make our lives sublime and departing leave behind us footprints on the sands of time.
