An Old Mans Memories, Like His Bones,

Old Men When They Begin To Hear The Last Trumpet, On The Morning Breeze, Often Have A Kind Of Absent-minded Smile; Like People Listening. And Their Smiles Are Just Politeness.

An Old Mans Memories, Like His Bones, Grow Sharp With Age And Show Their True Shapes.

Funeral Expenses Are The Curse Of The Poor Everywhere On Earth, They Are Wasteful And Unnecessary, They Are The Price Of Foolish Ostentation And A Display That Is Less An Evidence Of Grief Than A Vulgar Travesty Of Those Pompous Obsequies Where No Grief Is.

What I Say To An Artist Is, 'when You Can't Paint - Paint.

Politics Is Like Navigation In A Sea Without Charts, And Wise Men Live The Lives Of Pilgrims.