I'm Not Confused. I'm Just Well Mixed.

Space Ails Us Moderns: We Are Sick With Space.

A Bank Is A Place Where They Lend You An Umbrella In Fair Weather And Ask For It Back When It Begins To Rain.

I Have Stood Still And Stopped The Sound Of Feet When Far Away An Interrupted Cry Came Over Houses From Another Street, But Not To Call Me Back Or Say Good-bye.

All Those Who Try To Go It Sole Alone, Too Proud To Be Beholden For Relief, Are Absolutely Sure To Come To Grief.

Forgive, O Lord, My Little Jokes On Thee, And I'll Forgive Thy Great Big Joke On Me.