The Flower Of The Present Rosily Blossomed.

Can You Say Something About Nothing?

People Will Insist On Treating The Mons Veneris As Though It Were Mount Everest. Too Silly!

Pully, Hauly, Tug With A Will; The Gods Wiggle Waggle, But The Sky Stands Still.

To Travel Is To Discover That Everybody Is Wrong. The Philosophies, The Civilizations Which Seem, At A Distance, So Superior To Those Current At Home, All Prove On A Close Inspection To Be In Their Own Way Just As Hopelessly Imperfect.

We Don't Want To Change. Every Change Is A Menace To Stability.