“The past is a bucket of ashes”

“I tell you the past is a bucket of ashes.”

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, if the women don't get you then the whiskey must.”

“The Lawyers Know Too Much THE LAWYERS, Bob, know too much.They are chums of the books of old John Marshall.They know it all, what a dead hand wrote,A stiff dead hand and its knuckles crumbling,The bones of the fingers a thin white ash. The lawyers know a dead man’s thoughts too well. In the heels of the higgling lawyers, Bob,Too many slippery ifs and buts and howevers,Too much hereinbefore provided whereas,Too many doors to go in and out of. When the lawyers are throughWhat is there left, Bob?Can a mouse nibble at itAnd find enough to fasten a tooth in? Why is there always a secret singingWhen a lawyer cashes in?Why does a hearse horse snickerHauling a lawyer away?The work of a bricklayer goes to the blue.The knack of a mason outlasts a moon.The hands of a plasterer hold a room together.The land of a farmer wishes him back again. Singers of songs and dreamers of plays Build a house no wind blows over.The lawyers—tell me why a hearse horse snickers hauling a lawyer’s bones.”

“Let a joy keep you. Reach out your hands and take it runs by.”

“Anger is the most impotent of passions. It effects nothing it goes about, and hurts the one who is possessed by it more than the one against whom it is directed.”

“The single clenched fist lifted and ready,Or the open asking hand held out and waiting.Choose:For we meet by one or the other.”