“Somebody said it couldn't be done.But he with a chuckle replied,That maybe it couldn't, but he would be oneWho wouldn't say so 'till he'd tried.So he buckled right in with a trace of a grinOn his face. If he worried, he hid it.He started to sing as he tackled the thingThat couldn't be done. And he did.Somebody scoffed, "Oh, you'll never do thatAt least no one ever has done it."But he took off his coat, and he took off his hat,And the first thing we know, he'd begun it.With a lift of his chin and a bit of a grin,Without any doubting or "quit-it".He started to sing as he tackled the thingThat couldn't done. And he did it.There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done.There are thousands to prophesy failure.There are thousands to point out to you, one by one,The dangers that wait to assail youBut just buckle in, with a bit of a grin;Just take off your coat and go to it.Just start in to sing as yout tackle the thingThat cannot be done--and you'll do it!”

“Somebody said that it couldn't be doneBut he with a chuckle repliedThat "maybe it couldn't," but he would be oneWho wouldn't say so till he tried.So he buckled right in with the trace of a grinOn his face. If he worried he hid it.He started to sing as he tackled the thingThat couldn't be done, and he did it.”

“There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done, there are thousands to prophesy failure, there are thousands to point out to you one by one, the dangers that wait to assail you, But just buckle in, with a bit of a grin, just take off your coat and go to it; just start to sing as you tackle the thing, that cannot be done and you'll do it!!”

“Will you let me lift you?" he said. "Just let me lift you. Just let me see how light you are." "All right," she said. "Do you want me to take off my coat?""Yes, yes, yes," he said. "Take off your coat."She stood. She let her coat fall to the sofa."Can I do it now?" he said."Yes."He put his hands under her arms. He raised her off the floor and then put her down gently. "Oh you're so light!" he shouted. "Your'e so light, you're so fragile, you don't weigh any more than a suitcase. Why, I could carry you, I could carry you anywhere, I could carry you from one end of New York to the other." He got his hat and coat and ran out of the house.”

“He couldn't keep his eyes off her face, wished she'd take off those damned sunglasses so he could see the eyes he'd known so well.”

“He takes my right hand and places it palm down on his chest. Then he traces around it with the pen, craning his neck to see, giving himself double chins.'What are you doing?'He shifts my hand away and starts scratching out letters on his skin. 'I worked out a tattoo - if I had one.'I look at what he's done. He's got the outline of my hand over his heart and in it he's written, Her.”