Foolosophy.

Sleep like a log, but don't saw it.

Said the raindrop to the particle of dust: “This settles you. Your name is mud.”

Ashes to ashes, Dust to dust, If it wasn't for the oil can, the engine would bust.

A little mountain dew always helps the wild oat crop.

His face was a striking one, and even without his clothes people would have turned to look at him.

There's many a slip between the cop and the nip.

Liquid assets nowadays might refer to several things.

“If you refuse me I will die.”—She refused. Sixty years later he died.

Don't get hot under the collar. You ask us what we did with your poem entitled “An Ode to Oblivion.” The reply is—it reached its destination.

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