Heaven Grant Us Patience With A Man

When You're Wounded And Left On Afghanistan's Plains, And The Women Come Out To Cut Up What Remains, Jest Roll To Your Rifle And Blow Out Your Brains And Go To Your Gawd Like A Soldier.

The American Has No Language, He Has A Dialect, Slang, Provincialism, Accent And So Forth

San Francisco Has Only One Drawback—‘tis Hard To Leave.

Brother, Thy Tail Hangs Down Behind.

The Toad Beneath The Harrow Knows Exactly Where Each Tooth Point Goes.