I And The Public Know What All

Dance, Dance, Dance Till You Drop.

Dance Till The Stars Come Down From The Rafters Dance, Dance, Dance 'till You Drop.

Adjectives Are The Potbelly Of Poetry.

The Only Way To Spend New Year's Eve Is Either Quietly With Friends Or In A Brothel. Otherwise When The Evening Ends And People Pair Off, Someone Is Bound To Be Left In Tears.

Genealogies Are Admirable Things, Provided They Do Not Encourage The Curious Delusion That Some Families Are Older Than Others.