What The American Public Wants In The

It Is The Still, Small Voice That The Soul Heeds, Not The Deafening Blasts Of Doom.

You'll Find As You Grow Older That You Weren't Born Such A Great While Ago After All. The Time Shortens Up.

How Is It The Great Pieces Of Good Luck Fall To Us?

He Who Sleeps In Continual Noise Is Wakened By Silence.

I Wonder Why We Hate The Past So.