The First Twenty Years Of

No One In A Group Of Three Is The Same Person He (she, It) Is In A Group Of Two. No More Than He Is The Same In A Group Of Two As He Is Alone.

The Prairies Were Dust. Day After Day, Summer After Summer, The Scorching Winds Blew The Dust And The Sun Was Brassy In A Yellow Sky. Crop After Crop Failed. Again And Again The Barren Land Must Be Mortgaged For Taxes And Food And Next Year's Seed. The Agony Of Hope Ended When There Was Not Harvest And No More Credit, No Money To Pay Interest And Taxes; The Banker Took The Land. Then The Bank Failed.

All Men Are Brothers And Each Man Is Free.

As Novices, We Think We're Entirely Responsible For The Way People Treat Us. I Have Long Since Learned That We Are Responsible Only For The Way We Treat People.

The First Twenty Years Of My Life Were Wasted. I Didn't Fit My Environment, And I Didn't Know Any Other.