Singing Is The Lowest Form Of Communication.

Even Were Sleep Is Concerned, Too Much Is A Bad Thing.

The Fates Have Given Mankind A Patient Soul.

Friend, Many And Many A Dream Is Mere Confusion A Cobweb Of No Consequence At All. Two Gates For Ghostly Dreams There Are: One Gateway Of Honest Horn, And One Of Ivory. Issuing By The Ivory Gate Are Dreams Of Glimmering Illusion, Fantasies, But Those That Come Through Solid Polished Horn May Be Borne Out, If Mortals Only Know Them.

Oh, Look At Me! I'm Making People Happy! I'm The Magical Man From Happy-land, In A Gumdrop House On Lollipop Lane! Oh, By The Way, I Was Being Sarcastic.

Down From His Brow She Ran His Curls Like Thick Hyacinth Clusters Full Of Blooms