These Are The Saddest Of Possible Words, Tinker-to-evers-to-chance. Trio Of Bear Cubs Fleeter Than Birds, Tinker-to-evers-to-chance. Ruthlessly Pricking Our Gonfalon Bubble, Making A Giant Hit Into A Double, Words That Are Weighty With Nothing But Trouble, Tinker-to-evers-to-chance. This Brief Poem, Immortalized The Chicago Cubs' Double-play Combination: Shortstop Joe Tinker, Second Baseman Johnny Evers, And First Baseman Frank Chance.
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.
We Have Nothing In Our History Or Position To Invite Aggression; We Have Everything To Beckon Us To The Cultivation Of Relations Of Peace And Amity With All Nations.
Nobody Can Write Such Ironic Things Unless He Has A Deep Sense Of Injustice-injustice To Those Members Of The Race Who Are Victims Of The Stupid, The Pretentious And The Hypocritical.
We Deny That It Is Fun To Be Saving. It Is Fun To Be Prodigal. Go To The Butterfly, Thou Parsimonious Sluggard; Consider Her Ways And Get Wise.
Prohibition Is An Awful Flop. We Like It. It Can't Stop What It's Meant To Stop. We Like It. It's Left A Trail Of Graft And Slime It Don't Prohibit Worth A Dime It's Filled Our Land With Vice And Crime, Nevertheless, We're For It.
As We See Censorship It Is A Stupid Giant Traffic Policeman Answering "yes" To "am I My Brother's Copper?" He Guards A One-way Street And His Semaphore Has Four Signs, All Marked "stop.
Day After Day, Night After Night, My Life At Home Is Far From Bright, But Even Home Has More Variety, Than I Can Find In Cafe Society.
Count The Day Won, When The Earth, Turning On Its Axis, Imposes No Additional Taxes
