The Only Certain Freedom's In

The Style Is The Man. Rather Say The Style Is The Way The Man Takes Himself; And To Be At All Charming Or Even Bearable, The Way Is Almost Rigidly Prescribed. If It Is With Outer Seriousness, It Must Be With Inner Humor. If It Is With Outer Humor, It Must Be With Inner Seriousness. No Other Way Will Do.

The Fact Is The Sweetest Dream That Labor Knows.

Everyone Asks For Freedom For Himself, The Man Free Love, The Businessman Free Trade, The Writer And Talker Free Speech And Free Press.

Earth Would Soon Be Uninhabitable As The Moon. What For That Matter Had It Ever Been? Who Advised Man To Come And Live Therein?

My Sorrow, When She's Here With Me, Thinks These Dark Days Of Autumn Rain Are Beautiful As Days Can Be; She Loves The Bare, The Withered Tree; She Walks The Sodden Pasture Lane.