What becomes of the broken-hearted? They buy shoes.
For the young Gaels of Ireland Are the lads that drive me mad, For half their words need footnotes And half their rhymes are bad.
Admitting errors clears the score and proves you wiser than before.
First dentistry was painless. Then bicycles were chainless, Carriages were horseless, And many laws enforceless. Next cookery was fireless, Telegraphy was wireless, Cigars were nicotineless, And coffee caffeineless. Soon oranges were seedless, The putting green was weedless, The college boy was hatless, The proper diet fatless. New motor roads are dustless, The latest steel is rustless, Our tennis courts are sodless, Our new religion--godless.
So once in every year we throng Upon a day apart, to praise the Lord with feast and song in thankfulness of heart.
He who knows what he is told must know a lot of things that are not so.
When "Do no Evil" has been understood, Then learn the harder, braver rule, "Do Good.
I act and perform in hopes of getting attention and admiration.
I'm clearer now in what I want to say, and I know better how to say just that.
A pen is to me as a beak is to a hen.
It's the continuation of everyone's childhood to see these young children who grow up full of life, full of intelligence, full of a sense of wonder. And within an instant they're gone from this world. It's terrible.