Somewhere Beyond The Sink-hole, Past The Magnolia,

I Do Not Understand How Anyone Can Live Without Some Small Place Of Enchantment To Turn To.

The Truth Is Artistically Fallacious.

A Man'll Seem Like A Person To A Woman, Year In, Year Out. She'll Put Up And She'll Put Up. Then One Day He'll Do Something Maybe No Worse Than What He's Been A-doing All His Life. She'll Look At Him. And Without No Warning He'll Look Like A Varmint.

Two Elements Enter Into Successful And Happy Gatherings At Table. The Food, Whether Simple Or Elaborate, Must Be Carefully Prepared; Willingly Prepared; Imaginatively Prepared. And The Guests - Friends, Family Or Strangers - Must Be Conscious Of Their Welcome.

No, I Most Certainly Do Not Think Advertising People Are Wonderful. I Think They Are Horrible, And The Worst Menace To Mankind, Next To War; Perhaps Ahead Of War. They Stand For The Material Viewpoint, For The Importance Of Possessions, Of Desire, Of Envy, Of Greed. And War Comes From These Things.