Say, it's only a paper moon, / Sailing over a cardboard sea.

April in Paris, chestnuts in blossom, holiday tables under the trees.

Ira [Gershwin] was the shyest, most diffident boy we had ever known. In a class of lower east side rapscallions, his soft-spoken gentleness and low-keyed personality made him a lovable incongruity. He spoke in murmurs, hiding behind a pair of steel-rimmed glasses..Ira had a kid brother who wore high stiff collars, shirts with cuffs and went out with girls.

Ding-dong, the wicked witch is dead.

Follow the fellow who follows a dream.

They who meet on an April night are forever lost in love, if there's moonlight all about and there's no moon above.

Say, it's only a paper moon, / Sailing over a cardboard sea.