Leaving America is like losing twenty pounds and finding a new girlfriend.
Comfort his family with a telegram, we regret to inform you we lost a man, but we gave him the highest medal of the land.
It's always the old to lead us to the war. It's always the young to fall.
Love is a rainbow curving down from the sky, falling crystals of color, shades of warm that never die.
God isn't dead - he's just missing in action.
The final story, the final chapter of Western man, I believe, lies in Los Angeles.