Indeed, everybody wants to be a wow, But not everybody knows exactly how.

Neath tile or thatch That man is rich Who has a scratch For every itch.

People expect old men to die, They do not really mourn old men. Old men are different. People look At them with eyes that wonder when ... People watch with unshocked eyes; But the old men know when an old man dies.

Maybe I couldn't be dafter, But I keep wondering if this time we settle our differences before a war instead of after.

I don't mind their having a lot of money, and I don't care how they employ it, but I do think that they damn well ought to admit they enjoy it.

Beneath this slab John Brown is stowed. He watched the ads, And not the road.

Whether elected or appointed he considers himself the Lord's anointed, and indeed the ointment lingers on him so thick you can't get your fingers on him.