I Suppose The Human Race Is Doing

Of Middle Age The Best That Can Be Said Is That A Middle Aged Person Has Likely Learned How To Have A Little Fun In Spite Of His Troubles.

Between The Years Of Ninety-two And A Hundred And Two, However, We Shall Be The Ribald, Useless, Drunken, Outcast Person We Have Always Wished To Be. We Shall Have A Long White Beard And Long White Hair; We Shall Not Walk At All, But Recline In A Wheel Chair And Bellow For Alcoholic Beverages; In The Winter We Shall Sit Before The Fire With Our Feet In A Bucket Of Hot Water, A Decanter Of Corn Whiskey Near At Hand, And Write Ribald Songs Against Organized Society... We Look Forward To A Disreputable, Vigorous, Unhonoured, And Disorderly Old Age.

It Has Been My Observation And Experience, And That Of My Family, That Nothing Human Works Out Well.

No Form Of Government Matters Nearly As Much As The Spirit And Intelligence Brought To The Administration Of Any Form Of Government.

It Takes All Sorts Of People To Make The Underworld.