Nancy Had A Mouth Like A Remembered

This Is What I Think Now: That The Natural State Of The Sentient Adult Is A Qualified Unhappiness.

Tomorrow We Will Run Faster, Stretch Out Our Arms Farther.

I Like France, Where Everybody Thinks He's Napoleon--down Here Everybody Thinks He's Christ.

They Talked Aimlessly Back And Forth, Each Speaking For The Other.

No Matter How Low You Go, There's Always An Unexplored Basement.