People From Birmingham

"In my experience, men who sit in corners are the ones to watch."

"[Y]ou would think happy wedding guests would tuck in with gusto—yet ... [i]t’s mourners at funerals who scoff.” “Because this is food as human comfort, plus respect for the national gods. We are one with our ancestors and one with our fellow mourners."

"Do we think Locusta is still alive?” “If so, she would have to be about two hundred.” “Sipping at the Fountain of Youth?” “No, I think she was killed in the Year of the Four Emperors.” “Poison?” “Natural causes—execution.” “Did she train up apprentices?” “Yes, but the old crafts are dying. No one wants to be bothered. These days you can’t find suppliers with the expertise, however big a bribe you offer."

"Their work was undercover—yet their existence unconcealed. That is how fear works."

"They were not beggars; well, not in the usual sense. They were Christians, who wanted not just my nephews' money but their souls."

"Sometimes information you barely noticed consciously comes back to you of its own accord."

"No woman who builds a career on hard work and talent will ever compliment a much younger one who uses the shallow gift of her looks."

"Not all the fine civic building programmes in the world would ever displace the raw forces that drive most of humankind. This was the true city: greed, corruption and violence."

"Curiosity is a terrible inducement."

"There comes a point for a nut-lover, Quintus thought, where funeral food is worth taking a risk, even when you are dining with a megalomaniac who wants to kill you."

"Think of tonight as having a real purpose. Yes, it is dining with the dead in order to be at one with our ancestors, but at the same time, a good scoff in shared company provides solace for the unhappy, it anneals the internal stress of bereavement, it helps the living along the path of their recovery from grief.” “That’s a useful motto for a caterer!"

"She wasn't hungry, so she said. A salad and a cup of tea Was all she felt that she could eat, but it was different with me. "I'm rather hungry," I replied: "if you don't mind, I think I'll take Some oysters to begin with and a good old-fashioned sirloin steak."Now wives are curious in this; to make the statement blunt and straight, There's nothing tempts their appetites like food upon another's plate; And when those oysters six appeared she looked at them and said to me, "Just let me try one, will you, dear?" and right away she swallowed three."

"Who's dat knockin' at de do', Who's dat callin' here ter-day? What yo' want to see me fo'? Tell me what yo' got to say. What yo' name an' what yo' mean, Standin' out there in de gloam? Trouble, waitin' to come in? No sir, no sir, I ain't home!"

"Stick to it, boy, Through the thick and the thin of it! Work for the joy That is born of the din of it. Failures beset you, But don't let them fret you; Dangers are lurking, But just keep on working. If it's worthwhile and you're sure of the right of it, Stick to it, boy, and make a real fight of it!"

"I did not stop to ask the lad his little tale to tell, There was no need of that because I knew the story well - "She never gave a chance to me!" that sentence held it all. A hundred times I'd lived the scene in days when I was small, A broken rule, a teacher vexed, hot rage where calm belonged, A guilty judgment blindly made - a youngster sadly wronged.I still can see that little chap upon his homeward way, "She never gave a chance to me," I still can hear him say, And so I write this verse for him, and all the girls and boys Who shall their tutors now and then disturb with needless noise. Be fair, you teachers of our land, in every circumstance; Don't let some little fellow say he never had a chance."

"He brought me his report card from the teacher and he said He wasn't very proud of it and sadly bowed his head. He was excellent in reading, but arithmetic, was fair, And I noticed there were several "unsatisfactorys" there; But one little bit of credit which was given brought me joy — He was "excellent in effort," and I fairly hugged the boy."

"Oh, youth, go forth and do! You, too, to fame may rise; You can be strong and wise. Stand up to life and play the man — You can if you'll but think you can; The great were once as you. You envy them their proud success? 'Twas won with gifts that you possess."

"Where is the road to Arcady, Where is the path that leads to peace, Where shall I find the bliss to be, Where shall the weary wanderings cease? These are the questions that come to me - Where is the road to Arcady?"

"The difference 'twixt good and bad is not so very much, A few more minutes at the task, an extra turn or touch, A final test that all is right—and yet the men are few Who seem to think it worth their while these extra things to do."

"I must be fit for a child's glad greeting, His are eyes that there is no cheating; He must behold me in every test, Not at my worst, but my very best; He must be proud when my life is done To have men know that he is my son."

"Changin' laws an' legislatures ain't, as fur as I can see, Goin' to make this world much better, unless somehow we can Find a way to make a better an' a finer sort o' man. The trouble ain't with statutes or with systems—not at all; It's with humans jus' like we [are] an' their petty ways an' small. We could stop our writin' law-books an' our regulatin' rules If a better sort of manhood was the product of our schools. For the things that we air needin' isn't writin' from a pen Or bigger guns to shoot with, but a bigger type of men."

"Seemed like I couldn't stand it any more, The factory whistles blowin' day by day, An' men an' children hurryin' by the door, An' street cars clangin' on their busy way. The faces of the people seemed to be Washed pale by tears o' grief an' strife an' care, Till everywhere I turned to I could see The same old gloomy pictures of despair.The windows of the shops all looked the same, Decked out with stuff their owners wished to sell; When visitors across our doorway came I could recite the tales they'd have to tell. All things had lost their old-time power to please; Dog-tired I was an' irritable, too, An' so I traded chimney tops for trees, An' shingled roof for open skies of blue."

"No use weepin' when the milk is spilled, No use growlin' when your hopes are killed, No use kickin' when the lightnin' strikes Or the floods come along an' wreck your dykes; Only thing for a man right then Is to grit his teeth an' start again.For it's how life is an' the way things are That you've got to face if you travel far; An' the storms will come an' the failures, too, An' plans go wrong spite of all you do; An' the only thing that will help you win, Is the grit of a man and a stern set chin."

"What do I want my boy to be? Oft is the question asked of me, And oft I ask it of myself - What corner, niche or post or shelf In the great hall of life would I Select for him to occupy? Statesman or writer, poet, sage Or toiler for a weekly wage, Artist or artisan? Oh, what Is to become his future lot? For him I do not dare to plan; I only hope he'll be a man.I leave it free for him to choose The tools of life which he shall use, Brush, pen or chisel, lathe or wrench, The desk of commerce or the bench, And pray that when he makes his choice In each day's task he shall rejoice. I know somewhere there is a need For him to labor and succeed; Somewhere, if he be clean and true, Loyal and honest through and through, He shall be fit for any clan, And so I hope he'll be a man."

"They spoke it bravely, grimly, in their darkest hours of doubt; They spoke it when their hope was low and when their strength gave out; We heard it from the dying in those troubled days now gone, And they breathed it as their slogan for the living: "Carry on!"Now the days of strife are over, and the skies are fair again, But those two brave words of courage on our lips should still remain; In the trials which beset us and the cares we look upon, To our dead we should be faithful—we have still to "carry on!""Carry on!" through storm and danger, "carry on" through dark despair, "Carry on" through hurt and failure, "carry on" through grief and care; 'Twas the slogan they bequeathed us as they fell beside the way, And for them and for our children, let us "carry on!" to-day."

"You're pretty low down," says I to him, "But nobody's holding you there, my friend. Life is a stream where men sink or swim, And the drifters come to a sorry end; But there's two of you living and breathing still — The fellow you are, and he's tough to see, And another chap, if you've got the will, The man that you still have a chance to be."

"Somebody said that it couldn't be done, But he with a chuckle replied That "maybe it couldn't," but he would be one Who wouldn't say so till he'd tried. So he buckled right in with the trace of a grin On his face. If he worried he hid it. He started to sing as he tackled the thing That couldn't be done, and he did it."

"There will always be something to do, my boy; There will always be wrongs to right; There will always be need for a manly breed And men unafraid to fight. There will always be honor to guard, my boy; There will always be hills to climb, And tasks to do, and battles new From now to the end of time.There will always be dangers to face, my boy; There will always be goals to take; Men shall be tried, when the roads divide, And proved by the choice they make. There will always be burdens to bear, my boy; There will always be need to pray; There will always be tears through the future years, As loved ones are borne away."

"I look into the faces of the people passing by, The glad ones and the sad ones, and the lined with misery, And I wonder why the sorrow or the twinkle in the eye; But the pale and weary faces are the ones that trouble me."

"A man is at his finest towards the finish of the year; He is almost what he should be when the Christmas season's here; Then he's thinking more of others than he's thought the months before, And the laughter of his children is a joy worth toiling for. He is less a selfish creature than at any other time; When the Christmas spirit rules him he comes close to the sublime."

"I'd like to think when life is done That I had filled a needed post, That here and there I'd paid my fare With more than idle talk and boast; That I had taken gifts divine, The breath of life and manhood fine, And tried to use them now and then In service for my fellow men."

"He never guessed that being kind Depends upon the heart and mind And not upon the purse at all; That poor men's gifts, however small, Make light some weary traveler's load And smooth for him his troubled road. He never knew or understood The fellowship of doing good. Because he had not much to spare He thought it vain to give his share.Yet many passed him, day by day, He might have helped along the way. He fancied kindness something which Belongs entirely to the rich. And so he lived and toiled for gold, Unsympathetic, harsh and cold, Intending all the time to share The burdens that his brothers bear When he possessed great wealth, and he Could well afford a friend to be."

"I envy men whose yards are gay, But never work as hard as they; I also envy men who own More wealth than I have ever known. I'm like a lot of men who yearn For joys that they refuse to earn.You cannot have the joys of work And take the comfort of a shirk. I find the man I envy most Is he who's longest at his post. I could have gold and roses, too, If I would work like those who do."

"Oh, my shoulders grow aweary of the burdens I am bearin', An' I grumble when I'm footsore at the rough road I am farin', But I strap my knapsack tighter till I feel the leather bind me, An' I'm glad to bear the burdens for the ones who come behind me. It's for them that I am ploddin', for the children comin' after; I would strew their path with roses and would fill their days with laughter.Oh, there's selfishness within me, there are times it gets to talkin', Times I hear it whisper to me, "It's a dusty road you're walkin'; Why not rest your feet a little; why not pause an' take your leisure? Don't you hunger in your strivin' for the merry whirl of pleasure?" Then I turn an' see them smilin' an' I grip my burdens tighter, For the joy that I am seekin' is to see their eyes grow brighter."

"No man is greater than his will; No gods to him will lend a hand! Upon his courage and his skill The record of his life must stand. What honors shall befall to him, What he shall claim of fame or pelf, Depend not on the favoring whim Of fortune's god, but on himself."

"It is better as it is: I have failed but I can sleep; Though the pit I now am in is very dark and deep I can walk to-morrow's streets and can meet to-morrow's men Unashamed to face their gaze as I go to work again.I have lost the hope I had; in the dust are all my dreams, But my loss is not so great or so dreadful as it seems; I made my fight and though I failed I need not slink away For I do not have to fear what another man may say."

"We have room for the man with an honest dream, With his heart on fire and his eyes agleam; We have room for the man with a purpose true, Who comes to our shores to start life anew, But we haven't an inch of space for him Who comes to plot against life and limb.We have room for the man who will learn our ways, Who will stand by our Flag in its troubled days; We have room for the man who will till the soil, Who will give his hands to a fair day's toil, But we haven't an inch of space to spare For the breeder of hatred and black despair."

"Boy o' mine, boy o' mine, this is my prayer for you, This is my dream and my thought and my care for you: Strong be the spirit which dwells in the breast of you, Never may folly or shame get the best of you; You shall be tempted in fancied security, But make no choice that is stained with impurity.Boy o' mine, boy o' mine, time shall command of you Thought from the brain of you, work from the hand of you; Voices of pleasure shall whisper and call to you, Luring you far from the hard tasks that fall to you; Then as you're meeting life's bitterest test of men, God grant you strength to be true as the best of men."

"Honor is something we all profess, But most of us cheat—some more, some less— An' the real test isn't the way we do When there isn't a pinch in either shoe; It's whether we're true to our best or not When the right thing's certain to hurt a lot."

"I must get out on the trails once more that wind through shadowy haunts and cool, Away from the presence of wall and door, and see myself in a crystal pool; I must get out with the silent things, where neither laughter nor hate is heard, Where malice never the humblest stings and no one is hurt by a spoken word."

"Grandmother says when I pass her the cake: "Just half of that, please." If I serve her the tenderest portion of steak: "Just half of that, please." And be the dessert a rice pudding or pie, As I pass Grandma's share she is sure to reply, With the trace of a twinkle to light up her eye: "Just half of that, please.""

"I fancy I hear them talking there In an open boat, and the speech is fair. And the boy is learning the ways of men From the finest man in his youthful ken. Kings, to the youngster, cannot compare With the gentle father who's with him there. And the greatest mind of the human race Not for one minute could take his place."

"If through the years we're not to do Much finer deeds than we have done; If we must merely wander through Time's garden, idling in the sun; If there is nothing big ahead, Why do we fear to join the dead?Unless to-morrow means that we Shall do some needed service here; That tasks are waiting you and me That will be lost, save we appear; Then why this dreadful thought of sorrow That we may never see to-morrow?"

"Are you one of the nine who pass men by In this hasty life we live? Do you refuse with a downcast eye The help which you could give? Or are you the one in ten whose creed Is always to stop for the man in need?"

"Now a bit of praise isn't much to give, But it's dear to the hearts of all who live; And there's never a man on this good old earth But is glad to be told that he's been of worth; And a kindly word when the work is fair Is welcomed and wanted everywhere."

""It's not exactly to my best But it may pass the final test; And should it break, no man can know It was my hand that made it so. The thing is faulty, but perhaps We'll never hear it when it snaps."Of course the workman couldn't see The mangled car beneath the tree, The dead man, and the tortured wife Doomed to a cripple's chair for life – His chief concern was getting by The stern inspector's eager eye."

"Whose luck is better far than ours? The other fellow's. Whose road seems always lined with flowers? The other fellow's. Who is the man who seems to get Most joy in life, with least regret, Who always seems to win his bet? The other fellow."

"It was thick with Prussian troopers, it was foul with German guns; Every tree that cast a shadow was a sheltering place for Huns. Death was guarding every roadway, death was watching every field, And behind each rise of terrain was a rapid-fire concealed; Uncle Sam's Marines had orders: "Drive the Boche from where they're hid. For the honor of Old Glory, take the woods!" And so they did."

"Now you've all the equipment the greatest possess, And some men have risen to glory with less, So don't be afraid, but go to it; If it's honest, and useful, and ought to be done, Don't think it beneath you, but jump in, my son - Go straight to your duty and do it."

"How much grit do you think you've got? Can you quit a thing that you like a lot? You may talk of pluck; it's an easy word, And where'er you go it is often heard; But can you tell to a jot or guess Just how much courage you now possess?You may stand to trouble and keep your grin, But have you tackled self-discipline? Have you ever issued commands to you To quit the things that you like to do, And then, when tempted and sorely swayed, Those rigid orders have you obeyed?Don't boast of your grit till you've tried it out, Nor prate to men of your courage stout, For it's easy enough to retain a grin In the face of a fight there's a chance to win, But the sort of grit that is good to own Is the stuff you need when you're all alone.How much grit do you think you've got? Can you turn from joys that you like a lot? Have you ever tested yourself to know How far with yourself your will can go? If you want to know if you have grit, Just pick out a joy that you like, and quit.It's bully sport and it's open fight; It will keep you busy both day and night; For the toughest kind of a game you'll find Is to make your body obey your mind. And you never will know what is meant by grit Unless there's something you've tried to quit."