History Doesn't Pass The Dishes Again.

Lots Of Men Are Like That, Their Artistic Leanings Never Go Beyond A Weakness For Shapely Thighs.

Life Is Filigree Work. What Is Written Clearly Is Not Worth Much, It's The Transparency That Counts.

Even Diseases Have Lost Their Prestige, There Aren't So Many Of Them Left. Think It Over... No More Syphilis, No More Clap, No More Typhoid... Antibiotics Have Taken Half The Tragedy Out Of Medicine.

For The Poor Of This World, Two Major Ways Of Expiring Are Available: Either By The Absolute Indifference Of Your Fellow-men In Peace-time, Or By The Homicidal Passion Of These Same When War Breaks Out.

The Novel Can't Compete With Cars, The Movies, Television, And Liquor. A Guy Who's Had A Good Feed And Tanked Up On Good Wine Gives His Old Lady A Kiss After Supper And His Day Is Over. Finished.