It Takes All Sorts Of People To

By The Time A Bartender Knows What Drink A Man Will Have Before He Orders, There Is Little Else About Him Worth Knowing.

The Art Of Newspaper Paragraphing Is To Stroke A Platitude Until It Purrs Like An Epigram.

For All Of The Creeds Are False, And All Of The Creeds Are True; And Low At The Shrines Where My Brothers Bow, There Will I Bow Too; For No Form Of A God, And No Fashion Man Has Made In His Desperate Passion, But Is Worthy Some Worship Of Mine; Not Too Hot With A Gross Belief, Nor Yet Too Cold With Pride, I Will Bow Me Down Where My Brothers Bow, Humble, But Open Eyed.

Most Of The People Living In New York Have Come Here From The Far To Try To Make Enough Money To Go Back To The Farm

Pity The Meek, For They Shall Inherit The Earth.