When I remember bygone days I think how evening follows morn So many I loved were not yet dead, So many I love were not yet born.

Time is so old and love so brief, love is pure gold and time a thief. We're late, darling, we're late, The curtain descends, everything ends, too soon, too soon.

The cow is of the bovine ilk: One end is moo, the other, milk.

Some debts are fun while you are acquiring them, But none are fun when you set about retiring them.

Winter is the king of showmen, Turning tree stumps into snowmen And houses into birthday cakes And spreading sugar over lakes. Smooth and clean and frosty white, The world looks good enough to bite. That’s the season to be young, Catching snowflakes on your tongue. Snow is snowy when it’s snowing, I’m sorry it’s slushy when it’s going.

I myself am more and more inclined to agree with Omar and Satchel Paige as I grow older: Don't try to rewrite what the moving finger has writ, and don't ever look over your shoulder.

When grandparents enter the door, discipline flies out the window.