One Sailor Will Do Us More Good

Mystery Is Made A Convenient Cover For Absurdity.

Had I Been Chosen President Again, I Am Certain I Could Not Have Lived Another Year.

The True Source Of Our Sufferings Has Been Our Timidity.

In Days Of Yore, The Poet's Pen From Wing Of Bird Was Plunder'd, Perhaps Of Goose, But Now And Then, From Jove's Own Eagle Sunder'd. But Now, Metallic Pens Disclose Alone The Poet's Numbers; In Iron Inspiration Glows, Or With The Poet Slumbers.

There Is No Greater Guilt Than The Unneccessary War.