O, Merry Is The Optimist, With The

Women Are Not Men's Equals In Anything Except Responsibility. We Are Not Their Inferiors, Either, Or Even Their Superiors. We Are Quite Simply Different Races.

A Mother's Hardest To Forgive. Life Is The Fruit She Longs To Hand You Ripe On A Plate. And While You Live, Relentlessly She Understands You.

For Little Boys Are Rancorous When Robbed Of Any Myth, And Spiteful And Cantankerous To All Their Kin And Kith. But Little Girls Can Draw Conclusions And Profit From Their Lost Illusions.

People Are No Longer Sinful, They Are Only Immature Or Underprivileged Or Frightened Or, More Particularly, Sick.

In Spring When Maple Buds Are Red, We Turn The Clock An Hour Ahead; Which Means, Each April That Arrives, We Lose An Hour Out Of Our Lives. Who Cares? When Autumn Birds In Flocks Fly Southward, Back We Turn The Clocks, And So Regain A Lovely Thing That Missing Hour We Lost In Spring.