Every Life Is Its Own Excuse For

Souls Are Made Of Dawn-stuff And Starshine.

Destruction, Violence, Ravages, Murder, Are Perpetrated By Statute Law.

The Man Who Doesn't Relax And Hoot A Few Hoots Voluntarily, Now And Then, Is In Great Danger Of Hooting Hoots And Standing On His Head For The Edification Of The Pathologist And Trained Nurse, A Little Later On.

The Man Who Has No Problems Is Out Of The Game.

The Businessman Is One Who Supplies Something Great And Good To The World, And Collects From The World For The Goods.