I Prefer That Laughter Shall Take Me

Incongruity Is The Mainspring Of Laughter.

The Literary Gift Is A Mere Accident - Is As Often Bestowed On Idiots Who Have Nothing To Say Worth Hearing As It Is Denied To Strenuous Sages.

History Does Not Repeat Itself. The Historians Repeat One Another.

It Is A Part Of English Hypocrisy Or English Reserve, That Whilst We Are Fluent Enough In Grumbling About Small Inconveniences, We Insist On Making Light Of Any Great Difficulties Or Grief's That May Beset Us.

For A Young Man, Sleep Is A Sure Solvent Of Distress. There Whirls Not For Him In The Night Any So Hideous Phantasmagoria As Will Not Become, In The Clarity Of The Next Morning, A Spruce Procession For Him To Lead. Brief The Vague Horror Of His Awakening; Memory Sweeps Back To Him, And He Sees Nothing Dreadful After All. "why Not?" Is The Sun's Bright Message To Him, And "why Not Indeed?" His Answer.