There Are Passions That It

The Lord Grant We May All Be Tillers Of The Soil.

Go Along, Go Along Quickly, And Set All You Have On The Table For Us. We Don't Want Doughnuts, Honey Buns, Poppy Cakes, And Other Dainties; Bring Us A Whole Sheep, Serve A Goat And Forty-year Old Mead! And Plenty Of Vodka, Not Vodka With All Sorts Of Fancies, Not With Raisins And Flavorings, But Pure Foaming Vodka, That Hisses And Bubbles Like Mad.

It Is No Use To Blame The Looking Glass If Your Face Is Awry.

We Ought To Thank God For That. Yes, The Man Who Tills The Land Is More Worthy Of Respect Than Any.

There Are Certain Words Which Are Nearer And Dearer To A Man Than Any Others.