Glossa Time goes by, time comes along,All is old and all is new;What is right and what is wrong,You must think and ask of you;Have no hope and have no fear,Waves that rise can never hold;If they urge or if they cheer,You remain aloof and cold. To our sight a lot will glisten,Many sounds will reach our ear;Who could take the time to listenAnd remember all we hear?Keep aside from all that patter,Seek yourself, far from the throng When with loud and idle clatterTime goes by, time comes along.Nor forget the tongue of reasonOr its even scales depressWhen the moment, changing season,Wears the mask of happiness -It is born of reason's slumberAnd may last a wink as true:For the one who knows its numberAll is old and all is new.Be as to a play, spectator,As the world unfolds before:You will know the heart of matterShould they act two parts or four;When they cry or tear asunderFrom your seat enjoy alongAnd you'll learn from art to wonderWhat is right and what is wrong.Past and future, ever blending,Are the twin sides of same page:New start will begin with endingWhen you know to learn from age;All that was or be tomorrowWe have in the present, too;But what's vain and futile sorrowYou must think and ask of you;For the living cannot severFrom the means we've always had:Now, as years ago, and ever,Men are happy or are sad:Other masks, same play repeated;Diff'rent tongues, same words to hear;Of your dreams so often cheated,Have no hope and have no fear.Hope not when the villains clusterBy success and glory drawn:Fools with perfect lack of lusterWill outshine Hyperion!Fear it not, they'll push each otherTo reach higher in the fold,Do not side with them as brother,Waves that rise can never hold.Sounds of siren songs call steadyToward golden nets, astray;Life attracts you into eddiesTo change actors in the play;Steal aside from crowd and bustle,Do not look, seem not to hearFrom your path, away from hustle,If they urge or if they cheer;If they reach for you, go faster,Hold your tongue when slanders yell;Your advice they cannot master,Don't you know their measure well?Let them talk and let them chatter,Let all go past, young and old;Unattached to man or matter,You remain aloof and cold.You remain aloof and coldIf they urge or if they cheer;Waves that rise can never hold,Have no hope and have no fear;You must think and ask of youWhat is right and what is wrong;All is old and all is new,Time goes by, time comes along.

Failure to put the relationship on a slower timetable may result in an act that was never intended in the first place. Another important principle is to avoid the circumstances where compromise is likely. A girl who wants to preserve her virginity should not find herself in a house or dorm room alone with someone to whom she is attracted. Nor should she single-date with someone she has reason not to trust. A guy who wants to be moral should stay away from the girl he knows would go to bed with him. Remember the words of Solomon to his son, “Keep to a path far from her, do not go near the door of her house” (Proverbs 5:8). I know this advice sounds very narrow in a day when virginity is mocked and chastity is considered old-fashioned. But I don’t apologize for it. The Scriptures are eternal, and God’s standards of right and wrong do not change with the whims of culture. He will honor and help those who are trying to follow His commandments. In fact, the apostle Paul said, “He will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear” (1Corinthians 10:13). Hold that promise and continue to use your head. You’ll be glad you did.

Father Brendan Flynn: "A woman was gossiping with her friend about a man whom they hardly knew - I know none of you have ever done this. That night, she had a dream: a great hand appeared over her and pointed down on her. She was immediately seized with an overwhelming sense of guilt. The next day she went to confession. She got the old parish priest, Father O' Rourke, and she told him the whole thing. 'Is gossiping a sin?' she asked the old man. 'Was that God All Mighty's hand pointing down at me? Should I ask for your absolution? Father, have I done something wrong?' 'Yes,' Father O' Rourke answered her. 'Yes, you ignorant, badly-brought-up female. You have blamed false witness on your neighbor. You played fast and loose with his reputation, and you should be heartily ashamed.' So, the woman said she was sorry, and asked for forgiveness. 'Not so fast,' says O' Rourke. 'I want you to go home, take a pillow upon your roof, cut it open with a knife, and return here to me.' So, the woman went home: took a pillow off her bed, a knife from the drawer, went up the fire escape to her roof, and stabbed the pillow. Then she went back to the old parish priest as instructed. 'Did you gut the pillow with a knife?' he says. 'Yes, Father.' 'And what were the results?' 'Feathers,' she said. 'Feathers?' he repeated. 'Feathers; everywhere, Father.' 'Now I want you to go back and gather up every last feather that flew out onto the wind,' 'Well,' she said, 'it can't be done. I don't know where they went. The wind took them all over.' 'And that,' said Father O' Rourke, 'is gossip!

Let's have a bet, then. If I'm right, you kiss me," he says."And if I'm right?""Name it."It's like taking candy from a baby. Mr. Macho Guy's ego is about to be taken down a notch, and I'm all too happy to be the one to do it. "If I win you take me and the class project seriously," I tell him. "No teasing me, no making ridiculous comments.""Deal. I'd feel terrible if I didn't tell you I have a photographic memory.""Alex, I'd feel terrible if I didn't tell you I copied the info straight from the book." I look at the research I'd done, then flip open to the corresponding page in my chem book. "Without looking, what does it need to be cooled at?" I ask.Alex is a guy who thrives on challenges. But this time the tough guy is going to lose. He closes his own book and stares at me, his jaw set. "Twenty degrees. And it needs to be dissolved at one hundred degrees, not seventy," he answers confidently.I scan the page, then my notes. Then back at the page again. I can't be wrong. Which page did I- "Oh, yeah. One hundred degrees." I look up at him in complete shock. "You're right.""You gonna kiss me now, or later?""Right now," I say, which I can tell shocks him because his hands go still. At home, my life is dictated by my mom and dad. At school, it's different. I need to keep it that way, because if I have no control in every aspect of my life I might as well be a mannequin."Really?" he asks."Yeah." I take one of his hands in mine. I'd never be this bold if we had an audience, and am thankful for the privacy of the nonfiction titles surrounding us. His breathing slows as I sit up on my knees and lean into him. I'm ignoring the fact that his fingers are long and rough and that I've never actually touched him before. I'm nervous. I shouldn't be, though. I'm the one in control this time.I can feel him restraining himself. He's letting me make the move, which is a good thing. I'm afraid of what this boy would do if he let loose.I place his hand against my cheek so it cups my face and I hear him groan. I want to smile because his reaction proves I have the power.He's unmoving as our eyes meet.Time stops again.Then I turn my head into his hand and kiss the inside of his palm."There, I kissed you," I say, giving him back his hand and ending the game.Mr. Latino with the big ego got bested by a ditzy, blond bimbo.