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Then hate me when thou wilt; if ever, now;

Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross,

Join with the spite of fortune, make me bow,

And do not drop in for an after-loss:

Ah! do not, when my heart hath \'scap\'d this sorrow,

Come in the rearward of a conquer\'d woe;

Give not a windy night a rainy morrow,

To linger out a purpos\'d overthrow.

If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last,

When other petty griefs have done their spite,

But in the onset come: so shall I taste

At first the very worst of fortune\'s might;

  And other strains of woe, which now seem woe,

  Compar\'d with loss of thee, will not seem so.

 	--William Shakespeare

There is a battle that goes on between men and women. Many people
call it love.
Edvard Munch

History teaches that war begins when governments believe the price of
aggression is cheap.
Ronald Reagan