Someone spoke of your death, Heraclitus. It brought me
Tears, and I remembered how often together
We ran the sun down with talk… somewhere
You’ve long been dust, my Halicarnassian friend.
But your Nightingales live on. Though the Death-world
Claws at everything, it will not touch them.

[I]t is clear the future holds great opportunities. It also holds pitfalls. The trick will be to avoid the pitfalls, seize the opportunities, and get back home by six o’clock.

I bet after seeing us, George Washington would sue us for calling him "father."

Farewell, my sister, fare thee well. The elements be kind to thee, and make Thy spirits all of comfort: fare thee well.

If we got one-tenth of what was promised to us in these acceptance speeches there wouldn't be any inducement to go to heaven.