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1 " When a woman's face is wrinkledAnd her hairs are sprinkled, With gray, Lackaday!Aside she's cast, No one respect will pay;Remember, Lasses, remember.And while the sun shines make hay:You must not expect in December, The flowers you gathered in May. "
― Ann Rinaldi , Or Give Me Death: A Novel of Patrick Henry's Family
2 " By the Angel, it just crushed Sophocles," noted Will. " Has no one respect for the classics these days? "