I Knew The Whistle Of Each Of

My Big Ears Indicated A Talent For Music. This Thrilled Me.

The Name Of My Ailment Was Longing, And It Was Not Cured Till I Finally Went To The Department Store And Counted Out The Money In Small Coins Before The Dismayed Clerk. When I Came To The House, I Held Up The Instrument Before The Eyes Of The Astonished Household.

Life Is Like A Trumpet - If You Don't Put Anything Into It, You Don't Get Anything Out Of It.

If My Serenade Of Song And Story Should Serve As A Pillow For Some Composer's Head, As Yet Perhaps Unborn, To Dream And Build On Our Fond Melodies In His Tomorrow, I Have Not Labored In Vain.

I Knew The Whistle Of Each Of The River Boats On The Tennessee.