Money Was The Manure Of Politics.

The Only Way To Do It Is To Do It: By Writing, Writing, Writing.

Is Is Difficult To Be Angry With A Gentleman Who Pays You Compliments, Even Impertinent Compliments. Especially Impertinent Compliments.

It Is Much More Sensible To Be An Optimist Instead Of A Pessimist, For If One Is Doomed To Disappointment, Why Experience It In Advance?

There Was No Warning, Not Even A Knock. The Door Flew Open, And He Forgot His Present Aches And Pains In Anticipation Of What Lay In Store. The Figure That Stood In The Door Was Not That Of An Enemy. It Was Worse. It Was His Mother.

..he Continues To Cling To The Forlorn Hope That I Will Turn Into One Of Those Swooning Females...and Fling Myself Squeeling At Him Whenever Anything Happens. Like All Men, He Clings To His Illusions.