I Will Be Waiting By Candlelight In

Work And Pray, Live On Hay, Youll Get Pie In The Sky When You Die.

It Was Like Wondering How Evil Had Come Into The World Or What Happens To A Person After He Dies: An Interesting Philosophical Exercise, But Also Curiously Pointless, Since Evil And Death Happened, Regardless Of The Why And The How And What-it-meant.

Her Sanity Was A Fragile Thing, A Butterfly Cupped In Her Hands, That She Carried With Her Everywhere, Afraid Of What Would Happen If She Let It Go-or Got Careless And Crushed It.

A Pamphlet, No Matter How Good, Is Never Read More Than Once, But A Song Is Learned By Heart And Repeated Over And Over. And I Maintain That If A Person Can Put A Few Common Sense Facts Into A Song And Dress Them Up In A Cloak Of Humor, He Will Succeed In Reaching A Great Number Of Workers Who Are Too Unintelligent Or Too Indifferent To Read.

Aren't You Going To Tell Me I'm Not So Bad? She Asked. Mmm-no. I Was Thinking How Every Man Loves A Hot Girl With A History Of Making Mistakes. Because It's Always Possible She'll Make One With You.