Give us Direction; the best of goodwill; Put us in touch with fair winds. Sing to us softly, hum the evening's song. Tell us what the blacksmith has done for you.
Everyone is from somewhere, even if you've never been there.
The sand-castle virtues are all swept away in the tidal destruction, the moral melee.
The legends lie cradled in the seagulls call, and the promise they made are ground beneath the sadist's fall.
She's a nice girl, but her bad girl's better.
Who would be a poor man, a beggar man, a thief, if he held a rich man in his hand?