People Do Not Choose A Career; The

Humanity Has A Strange Fondness For Following Processions. Get Four Men Following A Banner Down The Street, And, If That Banner Is Inscribed With Rhymes Of Pleasant Optimism, In An Hour, All The Town Will Be Afoot, Ready To March To Whatever Tune The Leaders Care To Play.

We're Headed For Collapse, If You Want My Opinion, Missy. I Can See It In The Fallin' Off Of The Quality Of Vagrants. There Was Atime You Could Find Real Good Company In Almost Any Jungle You'd Pick, Men Who Could Talk, Men Who'd Read A Book Now And Then; And Now, What Do You Find, A Lot Of Dirty Little Guttersnipes No Decent Tramp Would Want To Associate With. Well, It's Been That Way All Through History.

Marxism Has Not Only Failed To Promote Human Freedom, It Has Failed To Produce Food.

Why, Lies Are Like A Sticky Juice Overspreading The World, A Living, Growing Flypaper To Catch And Gum The Wings Of Every Human Soul. . . And The Little Helpless Buzzings Of Honest, Liberal, Kindly People, Aren't They Like The Thin Little Noise Flies Make When They're Caught?

When I Was A Kid I Used To Tell Myself The Moon Was A Silver Gong And If I Could Climb High Enough To Beat On It With Both Hands All My Wishes Would Come True.