Life, lift the full goblet--away with all sorrow-- The circle of friendship what freedom would sever? To-day is our own, and a fig for to-morrow-- Here's to the Fourth and our country forever.

Seeing ourselves as others see us would probably confirm our worst suspicions about them.

The rich man has his motorcar, His country and his town estate, He smokes a fifty-cent cigar And jeers at Fate. He frivols through the livelong day, He knows not Poverty, her pinch. His lot seems light, his heart seems gay; He has a cinch. Yet though my lamp burns low and dim, Though I must slave for livelihood- Think you that I would change with him? You bet I would!

Christmas is over and Business is Business.

Money isn't everything, but lack of money isn't anything.

We have nothing in our history or position to invite aggression; we have everything to beckon us to the cultivation of relations of peace and amity with all nations.

Nobody can write such ironic things unless he has a deep sense of injustice-injustice to those members of the race who are victims of the stupid, the pretentious and the hypocritical.