In This Life He Laughs Longest Who

Humans Consist Of Body, Mind And Imagination. Our Bodies Are Faulty, Our Minds Untrustworthy, But Our Imagination Has Made Us Remarkable.

Off Cape Horn There Are But Two Kinds Of Weather, Neither One Of Them A Pleasant Kind.

In The Power And Splendor Of The Universe, Inspiration Waits For The Millions To Come. Man Has Only To Strive For It. Poems Greater Than The Iliad, Plays Greater Than Macbeth, Stories More Engaging Than Don Quixote Await Their Seeker And Finder.

It's A Warm Wind, The West Wind, Full Of Birds' Cries.

Each One Could Be A Jesus Mild, Each One Has Been A Little Child, A Little Child With Laughing Look, A Lovely White Unwritten Book; A Book That God Will Take, My Friend, As Each Goes Out At Journey's End.