In A Weak Moment, I Have Written

The South Produced Statesmen And Soldiers, Planters And Doctors, Lawyers And Poets, But Certainly Not Engineers Or Mechanics. Let The Yankees Adopt Such Low Callings.

What’s Broken Is Broken—and I’d Rather Remember It As It Was At Its Best Than Mend It And See The Broken Places As Long As I Live…i’m Too Old To Believe In Such Sentimentalities As Clean Slates And Starting All Over.

The Irish Are The Damnedest Race. They Put So Much Emphasis On So Many Wrong Things.

The Old Guard Dies But It Never Surrenders.

Say You’ll Marry Me When I Come Back Or, Before God, I Won’t Go. I’ll Stay Around Here And Play A Guitar Under Your Window Every Night And Sing At The Top Of My Voice And Compromise You, So You’ll Have To Marry Me To Save Your Reputation.