We dream of love And sleep without dream is life without love The moon - the dreaming star - hangs nightly over this sleep See yond that setting sun - that is where I hang my dreams
Silence is golden, my friend. And words are cheap. Put your words away like lesser coppers and spend them when you have something to say. Otherwise, drink up the golden nectar of the Olympians. Silence is golden, tis true. Does your silver tongue lap up the golden nectar all the same - by some alchemy? Mince not your words, friend. Tis the meat between the teeth that is my interest. My silver tongue picks it carefully, as it does with words.