I don't know how much longer I can complain.
We all scribble poetry.
The melancholy joys of evils pass'd, For he who much has suffer'd, much will know.
There is a time for many words, and there is also a time for sleep.
Oh, my tattered rags are caught on your coffee table.
Oh, look at me! I'm making people happy! I'm the Magical Man from Happy-Land, in a gumdrop house on Lollipop Lane! Oh, by the way, I was being sarcastic.