A Promise Made Is A Debt Unpaid.

Alas! The Road To Anywhere Is Pitfalled With Disaster; There's Hunger, Want, And Weariness, Yet O We Loved It So! As On We Tramped Exultantly, And No Man Was Our Master, And No Man Guessed What Dreams Were Ours, As, Swinging Heel And Toe, We Tramped The Road To Anywhere, The Magic Road To Anywhere, The Tragic Road To Anywhere, Such Dear, Dim Years Ago.

No Man Can Be A Failure If He Thinks He's A Success; If He Thinks He Is A Winner, Then He Is.

Ah! The Clock Is Always Slow; It Is Later Than You Think.

Our Breath Is Brief, And Being So Let's Make Our Heaven Here Below, And Lavish Kindness As We Go.

Write Verse, Not Poetry. The Public Wants Verse. If You Have A Talent For Poetry, Then Don't By Any Means Mother It, But Try Your Hand At Verse.