Sure, a mob's howl can be cheap. Yet our love will stick. I think you finally knew that Australia would be fair. Last night at least one lost child come safe home. By the time you found your mother in the crowd you had found a family too.
Nobody knows how long it takes to kill an olive.
Drought, axe, fire, are admitted failures. Hack one down, grub out a ton of mainroot for fuel, and next spring every side-root sends up shoots. Invading armies will fell them. They return through the burnt-out ribs of siege machines. Only the patient goat, nibbling his way down the ages, has malice to master the olive.