But you were something more than young and sweet And fair, - and the long year remembers you.

Music my rampart, and my only one.

You are loved. If so, what else matters?

Oh, you mean I'm a homosexual! Of course I am, and heterosexual too, but what's that got to do with my headache?

Not poppy, nor mandrake, Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world, Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep, Which thou owest yesterday.

Let us not forget such words, and all they mean, as hatred, bitterness, and rancor greed, intolerance, bigotry; let us renew our faith and pledge to man, his right to be himself and free.

One things there's no getting by, I've been a wicked girl, Says I... But, if I can't be sorry I might as well be glad !