Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means, Time held me green and dying Though I sang in my chains like the sea.

I've just had eighteen straight whiskies. I think that's the record.

Washington isn't a city, it's an abstraction.

Nothing grows in our garden, only washing. And babies.

And time cast forth my mortal creature To drift or drown upon the seas Acquainted with the salt adventure Of tides that never touch the shores. - I who was rich was made the richer By sipping at the the vine of days.

To begin, at the beginning.

Love drips & gathers, but the fallen blood Shall calm her sores..." -Thomas, The Force that through the green fuse drives the flower.