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• Buzz off, Banana Nose; Relieve mine eyes Of hateful soreness, purge mine ears of co
  Less dear than army ants in apple pies Art thou, old prune-face, with thy chestnuts worn, Dropt from thy peeling lips like lousy frui...
• I am thy father's spirit, Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night, And for the day confin'd to fast in fires, Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature Are burnt and purg'd away.
  But that I am forbid To tell the secrets of my prison-house, I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, Thy knotted and combined locks to part And each particular hair to stand an end, Like quills upon the fretful porpentine...
• Honor thy SysOp as thy self.
• Thou canst not say I did it; never shake Thy gory locks at me.
  -- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Macbeth -- Act iii, Sc. 4...
• Thy children like olive plants -- Old Testament -- Psalm cxxviii, 3
• Wind to thy wings. Light to thy path. Dreams to thy heart. -- Anon.