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Did you ever stop to think, and forget to start again?
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But if you ever come to a road where danger; Or guilt or anguish or shame's to share. Be good to the lad who loves you true, And the soul that was born to die for you; And whistle and I'll be there.
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If this world affords true happiness, it is to be found in a home where love and confidence increase with the years, where the necessities of life come without severe strain, where luxuries enter only after their cost has been carefully considered.
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Come, come, come. Without a monster or two it's not a quest, merely a gaggle of friends wandering about.
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It is more fun to talk with someone who doesn't use long, difficult words but rather short, easy words like "What about lunch?
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Now hollow fires burn out to black, And lights are guttering low: Square your shoulders, lift your pack And leave your friends and go.
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Nothing is more limiting than a closed circle of acquaintanceship where every avenue of conversation has been explored and social exchanges are fixed in a known routine.
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Stars ink your fingers with a lexicon of flame blazing rare knowledge.
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But, in the end, we editors just pass through. We all know that you, the readers, are the real carriers of the flame.
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It is a war built on lies that has fanned the flames of international terrorism
