"So at times when the mob is swayed to carry praise or blame too far, we may choose something like a star to stay our minds on -- and be staid." -Robert Frost
What's in a lie? A rose by any other name. The blossom's sweetness may well be a mustache and glasses; According to song, it'll turn us to ashes. Are thorns claws by intention? Methinks 'tis better to avoid all close inspection.
