I know, I wanted to, but the idea of picking all those names was so daunting. Mr. Babe thinks you're all ghouls, by the way.
I'm with Mr. Babe. I just visited this thread to dip my toe in the dark waters of the other side. I've had enough, a cold wind just blew into my room...oh, the AC just kicked on. Nevermind. Feast on you ghoulish beings.
I am reminded of W.B. Yeats' epitaph, taken from one of his last poems, "Under Ben Bulben." It serves as his epitaph on his gravestone at his request.
"Cast a cold eye on life, on death; Horseman, pass by."
