Oh, So Seldom Does Fate Cast Our

And Off In The Far Distance, The Gold On The Wings Of The Angel Atop The Bell Tower Of San Marco Flashed In The Sun, Bathing The Entire City In Its Glistening Benediction.

My Father Read 'the New York Times,' My Mother Did Secretarial Work, We Had A Dog, We Had A Garden, I Had A Brother.

I Just Go To Lunch. And I Never Know When Something Is Going Into The File And Something Is Not.

Oh, So Seldom Does Fate Cast Our Enemy Into Our Hands, To Do With As We Will

I Have Always Had A Particular Antagonism For The Military.