Nobody Can Write Such Ironic Things Unless

While The Work Or Play Is On, It Is A Lot Of Fun If While You Are Doing One You Don't Constantly Feel That You Ought To Be Doing The Other.

Life, Lift The Full Goblet--away With All Sorrow-- The Circle Of Friendship What Freedom Would Sever? To-day Is Our Own, And A Fig For To-morrow-- Here's To The Fourth And Our Country Forever.

There Is No Accounting For Tastes, As The Woman Said When Someone Told Her Her Son Was Wanted By The Police.

The Rich Man Has His Motorcar, His Country And His Town Estate, He Smokes A Fifty-cent Cigar And Jeers At Fate. He Frivols Through The Livelong Day, He Knows Not Poverty, Her Pinch. His Lot Seems Light, His Heart Seems Gay; He Has A Cinch. Yet Though My Lamp Burns Low And Dim, Though I Must Slave For Livelihood- Think You That I Would Change With Him? You Bet I Would!

You Do Not Know What You Can Miss Before You Try.