You Don't Plow Under The Corn Because

Lsd Lets You In On Something. When You're Tripping, The Idea Of Race Disappears; The Idea Of Sex Disappears; You Don't Even Know What Species You Are Sometimes. And I Don't Know Of Anybody Who Hasn't Come Back From That Being More Humane, More Thoughtful, More Understanding.

I Sometimes Have These Spells Of Compulsive Truth. But As Lady Macbeth Would Say, "the Fit Is Momentary."

High High In The Hills , High In A Pine Tree Bed. She's Tracing The Wind With That Old Hand, Counting The Clouds With That Old Chant, Three Geese In A Flock One Flew East One Flew West One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest

I Don't Think You Fully Understand The Public, My Friend; In This Country, When Something Is Out Of Order, Then The Quickest Way To Get It Fixed Is The Best Way.

They Can't Tell So Much About You If You Got Your Eyes Closed.