Heart, We Will Forget Him, You And

Pardon My Sanity In A World Insane

You Don't Have To Be A House To Be Haunted.

Fame Is A Fickle Food Upon A Shifting Plate.

Saying Nothing... Sometimes Says The Most.

To Fight Aloud, Is Very Brave— But Gallanter, I Know Who Charge Within The Bosom The Cavalry Of Wo— Who Win, And Nations Do Not See— Who Fall — And None Observe — Whose Dying Eyes, No Country Regards With Patriot Love— We Trust, In Plumed Procession For Such, The Angels Go— Rank After Rank, With Even Feet— And Uniforms Of Snow.