“Fighting men are the city’s fortress.”

Plant no tree sooner than the vine.

Tis said that wrath is the last thing in a man to grow old.

Wine is a peep-hole on a man.

One that hath wine as a chain about his wits, such a one lives no life at all.

Not houses finely roofed or the stones of walls well builded, nay nor canals and dockyards make the city, but men able to use their opportunity.

Not well-built walls, but brave citizens are the bulwark of the city.

Brave men are a city’s strongest tower of defence.

To be bowed by grief is folly; Naught is gained by melancholy; Better than the pain of thinking, Is to steep the sense in drinking.

For what fortress, what city, in the wide extent of the Roman empire, can hope to exist, secure and impregnable, if it is our pleasure that it should be erased from the earth?

Is Israel going to continue to be “Fortress Israel”? Or, as we all hope, become accepted into the neighborhood, which I believe is the only way we can move forward in harmony.