First Fig
My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends–
It gives a lovely light!
First Fig
My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends–
It gives a lovely light!
I must study politics and war that my sons may have liberty to study mathematics and philosophy.
Poor Huck was too distressed to smile, but the old man laughed loud and joyously, shook up the details of…
Language unstable as sand, but poets Strike on hard rock, carving Rune and hieroglyph , to celebrate Breath's sweet brevity.