I have written some poetry that I don't understand myself.

Hog butcher for the world, Tool maker, stacker of wheat, Player with railroads and the nation's freight handler; Stormy, husky, brawling, City of big shoulders.

We had two grand antique professors who had been teaching at Lombard since before I was born.

You remember some bedrooms you have slept in. There are bedrooms you like to remember and others you would like to forget.

I never made a mistake in grammar but one in my life and as soon as I done it I seen it.

I took to wearing a black tie known as the Ascot, with long drooping ends. I had seen pictures of painters, sculptors, poets, wearing this style of tie.

The secret of happiness is to admire without desiring.