Prejudice is the child of ignorance.

Babies haven't any hair; Old men's heads are just as bare; between the cradle and the grave lie a haircut and a shave

My soul is dark with stormy riot: directly traced over to diet.

When you're away, I'm restless, lonely, Wretched, bored, dejected; only here's the rub, my darling dear, I feel the same when you're near.

Babies haven't any hair; Old men's heads are just as bare; between the cradle and the grave lie a haircut and a shave.

What a lucky thing the wheel was invented before the automobile; otherwise, can you imagine what awful screeching?