The Mass Of Men Live Lives Of

Children From Ten To Twenty Don't Want To Be Understood. Their Whole Ambition Is To Feel Strange And Alien And Misinterpreted So That They Can Live Austerely In Some Stone Tower Of Adolescence, Their Privacies Unviolated.

Women Like Other Women Fine. The More Feminine She Is, The More Comfortable A Woman Feels With Her Own Sex. It Is Only The Occasional And Therefore Noticeable Adventuress Who Refuses To Make Friends With Us.

The Human Animal Needs A Freedom Seldom Mentioned, Freedom From Intrusion. He Needs A Little Privacy As Much As He Wants Understanding Or Vitamins Or Exercise Or Praise.

A Bit Of Trash Now And Then Is Good For The Severest Reader. It Provides The Necessary Roughage In The Literary Diet.

For The Hearts Of Nurses Are Solid Gold, / But Their Heels Are Flat And Their Hands Are Cold, / And Their Voices Lilt With A Lilt That's Falser / Than The Smile Of An Exhibition Waltzer. / Yes, Nurses Can Cure You, Nurses Restore You, / But Nurses Are Bound That They Do Things For You.