Freebsd Fortunes 5

Some people pray for more than they are willing to work for.

Some people say a front-engine car handles best.  Some people say a
rear-engine car handles best.  I say a rented car handles best.
                -- P.J. O'Rourke

Some peoples mouths work faster than their brains.
They say things they haven't even thought of yet.

Some rise by sin and some by virtue fall.

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction, ice
Is also great
And would suffice
                -- Robert Frost, "Fire and Ice"

Some scholars are like donkeys, they merely carry a lot of books.
                -- Folk saying

Some things have to be believed to be seen.

Somebody left the cork out of my lunch.
                -- W.C. Fields

Somebody ought to cross ball point pens with coat hangers
so that the pens will multiply instead of disappear.

Somebody's moggy, by the side of the road,
Somebody's pussy, who forgot his highway code,
Somebody's favourite feline, who ran clean out of luck,
When he ran onto the road, and tried to argue with a truck.

Yesterday he purred and played, in his pussy paradise,
Decapitating tweety birds, and masticating mice.
Now he's just six pounds of raw mince meat,
That don't smell very nice --
He's nobody's moggy now.

Oh you who love your pussy,
Be sure to keep him in.
Don't let him argue with a truck,       If he tries to play
The truck is bound to win.              On the road way
And upon the busy road,                 I'm afraid that will be that,
Don't let him play or frolic.           There will be one last despairing
If you do, I'm warning you,                     "Meow!"
It could be cat-astrophic!              And a sort of squelchy Splat!
                                        And your pussy will be slightly dead,
He's nobody's moggy --                  And very, very flat!
Just red and squashed and soggy --
He's nobody's moggy now.
                -- Eric Bogle, "Scraps of Paper"