Everything Stinks Till It’s Finished.

You're On Your Own. And You Know What You Know. And You Are The One Who'll Decide Where To Go.

I Do Not Like Green Eggs And Ham. I Do Not Like Them, Sam-i-am.

You Are The Guy Who'll Decide Where To Go.

They Say I'm Old-fashioned, And Live In The Past, But Sometimes I Think Progress Progresses Too Fast!

You Can Get So Confused That You'll Start In To Race Down Long Wiggled Roads At A Break-necking Pace And Grind On For Miles Across Weirdish Wild Space, Headed, I Fear, Toward A Most Useless Place. The Waiting Place.