Have you found your life distasteful? My life did, and does, smack sweet. Was your youth of pleasure wasteful? Mine I saved and hold complete. Do your joys with age diminish? When mine fail me, I 'll complain. Must in death your daylight finish? My sun sets to rise again.

I am not ashamed to confess I am ignorant of what I do not know.

Love is a perky elf dancing a merry little jig and then suddenly he turns on you with a miniature machine gun.