My Mother Was Dead For

I Cannot And Will Not Cut My Conscience To Fit This Year's Fashions.

We Will Not Think Noble Because We Are Not Noble. We Will Not Live In Beautiful Harmony Because There Is No Such Thing In This World, Nor Should There Be. We Promise Only To Do Our Best And To Live Out Our Lives. Dear God, That's All We Can Promise In Truth.

One Sits Uncomfortably On A Too Comfortable Cushion.

You Lose Your Manners When You're Poor.

It Was An Unspoken Pleasure, That Having Come Together So Many Years, Ruined So Much And Repaired A Little, We Had Endured.