Christmas Is Over And Business Is Business.

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!

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.

The Trouble With This Country Is That There Are Too Many Politicians Who Believe, With A Conviction Based On Experience, That You Can Fool All Of The People All Of The Time.

I Hate The Pollyanna Pest Who Says That All Is For The Best.

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