#AmericanWriters
In fourteen hundred and ninety-two… Someone sailed the ocean blue. Somebody borrowed the fare in Spa… For a business trip on the boundin… And to prove to the people, by act…
One cantaloupe is ripe and lush, Another’s green, another’s mush. I’d buy a lot more cantaloupe If I possessed a fluoroscope.
A flea and a fly in a flue Were imprisoned, so what could the… Said the fly, “let us flee!” “Let us fly!” said the flea. So they flew through a flaw in the…
More than a catbird hates a cat, Or a criminal hates a clue, Or the Axis hates the United Sta… That’s how much I love you. I love you more than a duck can sw…
The truth I do not stretch or sho… When I state that the dog is full… I’ve also found, by actual test, A wet dog is the lovingest.
People live forever in Jacksonvil… But you don’t have to live forever… The entrance requirements for gram… You only have to live until your c… From that point on you start looki…
The hands of the clock were reachi… In an old midtown hotel; I name no name, but its sordid fam… Is table talk in hell. I name no name, but hell’s own fla…
I would live all my life in noncha… Were it not for making a living, w…
Geniuses of countless nations Have told their love for generatio… Till all their memorable phrases Are common as goldenrod or daisies… Their girls have glimmered like th…
This is a song to celebrate banks, Because they are full of money and… you hear is clinks and clanks, Or maybe a sound like the wind in… Which is the rustling of the thous…
Master I may be, But not of my fate. Now come the kisses, too many too… Tell me, O Parcae, For fain would I know,
My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky; Contrariwise, my blood runs cold When little boys go by. For little boys as little boys,
Now another day is breaking, Sleep was sweet and so is waking. Dear Lord, I promised you last ni… Never again to sulk or fight. Such vows are easier to keep
So Thomas Edison Never drank his medicine; So Blackstone and Hoyle Refused cod-liver oil; So Sir Thomas Malory
When I remember bygone days I think how evening follows morn; So many I loved were not yet dead… So many I love were not yet born.