The Bold Are Helpless Without Cleverness.

But Woe To Him, Who Left To Moan, Reviews The Hours Of Brightness Gone.

He Is Life's Liberating Force. He Is Release Of Limbs And Communion Through Dance. He Is Laughter, And Music In Flutes. He Is Repose From All Cares -- He Is Sleep! When His Blood Bursts From The Grape And Flows Across Tables Laid In His Honor To Fuse With Our Blood, He Gently, Gradually, Wraps Us In Shadows Of Ivy-cool Sleep.

The God Knows When To Smile.

No One Is Truly Free, They Are A Slave To Wealth, Fortune, The Law, Or Other People Restraining Them From Acting According To Their Will.

Where There Is No Wine There Is No Love.