O Maternal Earth Which Rocks The Fallen

And I Never Started To Plow In My Life That Some One Did Not Stop In The Road And Take Me Away To A Dance Or Picnic. I Ended Up With Forty Acres; I Ended Up With A Broken Fiddle— And A Broken Laugh, And A Thousand Memories, And Not A Single Regret.

There Is The Silence Of Age, Too Full Of Wisdom For The Tongue To Utter It In Words Intelligible To Those Who Have Not Lived The Great Range Of Life.

How Shall The Soul Of A Man Be Larger Than The Life He Has Lived?

This Is Darrow, Inadequately Scrawled, With His Young, Old Heart, And His Drawl, And His Infinite Paradox And His Sadness, And Kindness, And His Artist Sense That Drives Him To Shape His Life To Something Harmonious, Even Against The Schemes Of God.

Immortality Is Not A Gift, Immortality Is An Achievement; And Only Those Who Strive Mightily Shall Possess It.