Time Is The Coin Of Life. Only

So I Turn Once More To Those Who Sneer At This My City, And I Give Them Back The Sneer And Say To Them: Come And Show Me Another City With Lifted Head Singing So Proud To Be Alive And Coarse And Strong And Cunning.

Slang Is A Language That Rolls Up Its Sleeves, Spits On Its Hands And Goes To Work.

Where Was I Going? I Puzzled And Wondered About It Til I Actually Enjoyed The Puzzlement And Wondering.

Time Is The Coin Of Your Life. You Spend It. Do Not Allow Others To Spend It For You.

Drum On Your Drums, Batter On Your Banjos, Sob On The Long Cool Winding Saxophones. Go To It, O Jazzmen.