Bed Is The Perfect Climate.

Here Ends The Story Of A Ship, But There Will Always Be Other Ships, For We Are An Island Race. Through All Our Centuries, The Sea Has Ruled Our Destiny. There Will Always Be Other Ships And Men To Sail In Them. It Is These Men, In Peace Or War, To Whom We Owe So Much. Above All Victories, Beyond All Loss, In Spite Of Changing Values In A Changing World, They Give To Us, Their Countrymen, Eternal And Indomitable Pride.

Dear 338171 (may I Call You 338?)

Many Years Ago I Remember A Famous Actress Explaining To Me With Perfect Seriousness That Before Making An Entrance She Always Stood Aside To Allow God To Go On First. I Can Also Remember That On That Particular Occasion He Gave A Singularly Uninspired Performance.

Of Course, The Age-old Tradition That A Star Must Appear Even If He Or She Is Practically Dying Is An Excellent One, But It Can Be Carried Too Far. I One Played A Performance Of The Knight Of The Burning Pestle With A Temperature Of 103 And Gave Sixteen Members Of The Company Mumps, Thereby Closing The Play And Throwing Everybody Out Of Work. There May Be A Moral Lurking Somewhere In This, But I Cannot For The Life Of Me Discover What It Is.

The Higher The Building The Lower The Morals.