Yes, making mock o' uniforms that guard you while you sleep

The tumalt and shouting dies, The captains and the kings depart. Still stands thine ancient sacrifice, An humble and a contrite heat. Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget, lest we forget.

Daughter am I in my mother's house, but mistress in my own.

Funny how the new things are the old things.

If you hit a pony over the nose at the outset of your acquaintance, he may not love you but he will take a deep interest in your movements ever afterwards

The Guns, Thank God, The Guns.

Go softly by that river side Or when you would depart, You'll find its every winding tied; And knotted round your heart.