All I Ask Is A

I Hold That When A Person Dies / His Soul Returns Again To Earth; / Arrayed In Some New Flesh Disguise / Another Mother Gives Him Birth / With Sturdier Limbs And Brighter Brain.

Off Cape Horn There Are But Two Kinds Of Weather, Neither One Of Them A Pleasant Kind.

Life Is A Long Headache In A Noisy Street.

In This Life He Laughs Longest Who Laughs Last.

It Ought To Have Gangsters, And Aeroplanes And A Lot Of Automatic Pistols.