Every Jackass Going The Roads Thinks He

His Heart Danced Upon Her Movement Like A Cork Upon A Tide.

Beauty, The Splendour Of Truth, Is A Gracious Presence When The Imagination Contemplates Intensely The Truth Of Its Own Being Or The Visible World, And The Spirit Which Proceeds Out Of Truth And Beauty Is The Holy Spirit Of Joy. These Are Realities And These Alone Give And Sustain Life.

Every Bond Is A Bond To Sorrow.

Every Jackass Going The Roads Thinks He Has Ideas.

Redheaded Women Buck Like Goats.