The Woods Are Lovely, Dark,

I Do Not See Why I Should E’er Turn Back, Or Those Should Not Set Forth Upon My Track To Overtake Me, Who Should Miss Me Here And Long To Know If Still I Held Them Dear. They Would Not Find Me Changed From Him They Knew — Only More Sure Of All I Thought Was True.

A Man Has Got To Keep His Extrication. The Important Thing Is Not To Get Bogged Down In What He Has To Do To Earn A Living.

My Sorrow, When She's Here With Me, Thinks These Dark Days Of Autumn Rain Are Beautiful As Days Can Be; She Loves The Bare, The Withered Tree; She Walks The Sodden Pasture Lane.

Come Grow Old With Me, For The Best Is Yet To Come!

We're Either Nothing Or A God's Regret.