Life, I Fancy, Would Very Often Be

Money Is Time. With Money I Buy For Cheerful Use The Hours Which Otherwise Would Not In Any Sense Be Mine; Nay, Which Would Make Me Their Miserable Bondsman.

In Nothing More Is The English Genius For Domesticity More Notably Declared Than In The Institution Of This Festival-almost One May Call It-of Afternoon Tea...the Mere Chink Of Cups And Saucers Tunes The Mind To Happy Repose.

To Every Man It Is Decreed: Thou Shalt Live Alone. Happy They Who Imagine That They Have Escaped The Common Lot; Happy, Whilst They Imagine It.

Money Is Made At Christmas Out Of Holly And Mistletoe, But Who Save The Vendors Would Greatly Care If No Green Branch Were Procurable?

I Hate With A Bitter Hatred The Names Of Lentils Haricots - Those Pretentious Cheats Of The Appetite, Those Tabulated Humbugs, Those Certified Aridites Calling Themselves Human Food!