He stripped off the armor of institutional friendships To dedictate his soul To the terrible deities of Truth and Beauty.

Beware of the man who rises to power from one suspender.

And I never started to plow in my life That some one did not stop in the road And take me away to a dance or picnic. I ended up with forty acres; I ended up with a broken fiddle— And a broken laugh, and a thousand memories, And not a single regret.

It takes life to love life.

The Typical American? He is sent to school Little or much, where he imbibes the rule Of safety first and comfort; in his youth He joins the church and ends the quest of truth.

. . . the weal of the race, and the cause of humanity, here and now, are enough To give life meaning and death as well.

Immortality is not a gift, Immortality is an achievement; And only those who strive mightily Shall possess it.