The Corn That Makes The

Man's Body Is Faulty, His Mind Untrustworthy, But His Imagination Has Made Him Remarkable.

On The Long Dusty Ribbon Of The Long City Street, The Pageant Of Life Is Passing Me On Multitudinous Feet, With A Word Here Of The Hills, And A Song There Of The Sea And-the Great Movement Changes-the Pageant Passes Me.

In This Life He Laughs Longest Who Laughs Last.

It Ought To Have Gangsters, And Aeroplanes And A Lot Of Automatic Pistols.

Love Is A Flame To Burn Out Human Wills, Love Is A Flame To Set The Will On Fire, Love Is A Flame To Cheat Men Into Mire.