I Wish The Rent Was Heaven Sent.

Summer Was Made To Give You A Taste Of What Hell Is Like. Winter Was Made For Landladies To Charge High Rents And Keep Cold Radiators And Make A Fortune Off Of Poor Tenants.

What Happens To A Dream Deferred? Does It Dry Up Like A Raisin In The Sun? Or Fester Like A Sore-- And Then Run? Does It Stink Like Rotten Meat? Or Crust And Sugar Over-- Like A Syrupy Sweet? Maybe It Just Sags Like A Heavy Load. Or Does It Explode?

I Don't Dare Start Thinking In The Morning. I Don't Dare Start Thinking In The Morning. If I Thought Thoughts In Bed, Them Thoughts Would Bust My Head-- So I Don't Dare Start Thinking In The Morning.

Whiskey Just Naturally Likes Me But Beer Likes Me Better.

I've Known Rivers: I've Known Rivers Ancient As The World And Older Than The Flow Of Human Blood In Human Veins. My Soul Has Grown Deep Like The Rivers. I Bathed In The Euphrates When Dawns Were Young. I Built My Hut Near The Congo And It Lulled Me To Sleep. I Looked Upon The Nile And Raised The Pyramids Above It. I Heard The Singing Of The Mississippi When Abe Lincoln Went Down To New Orleans, And I've Seen Its Muddy Bosom Turn All Golden In The Sunset. I've Known Rivers: Ancient, Dusky Rivers. My Soul Has Grown Deep Like The Rivers.