Then if my friendships break and bend, There's little need to cry The while I know that every foe Is faithful till I die.

Every year, back comes Spring, with nasty little birds yapping their fool heads off and the ground all mucked up with plants.

Men They hail you as their morning star Because you are the way you are. If you return the sentiment, They'll try to make you different; And once they have you, safe and sound, They want to change you all around. Your moods and ways they put a curse on; They'd make of you another person. They cannot let you go your gait; They influence and educate. They'd alter all that they admired. They make me sick, they make me tired.

Dear Mary: We all knew you had it in you.

One more drink and I'd have been under the host.

It may be that this autobiography [Aimee Semple McPherson's] is set down in sincerity, frankness, and simple effort. It may be, too, that the Statue of Liberty is situated in Lake Ontario.

Three highballs, and I think I'm St. Francis of Assisi.