We May Achieve Climate, But Weather Is

I Wanted To Paint A Picture Some Day That People Would Stand Before And Forget That It Was Made Of Paint. I Wanted It To Creep Into Them Like A Bar Of Music And Mushroom There Like A Soft Bullet.

Whenever My Patient Begins To Count The Carriages In Her Funeral Procession I Subtract 50 Per Cent From The Curative Power Of Medicines.

Not Very Long Ago Some One Invented The Assertion That There Were Only "four Hundred" People In New York City Who Were Really Worth Noticing. But A Wiser Man Has Arisen - The Census Taker - And His Larger Estimate Of Human Interest Has Been Preferred In Marking Out The Field Of These Little Stories Of The "four Million.

This Fair But Pitiless City Of Manhattan Was Without A Soul ... Its Inhabitants Were Manikins Moved By Wires And Springs.

[a]ll Of Life, As We Know It, Moves In Little, Unavailing Circles. More Justly Than To Anything Else, It Can Be Likened To The Game Of Baseball. Crack! We Hit The Ball, And Away We Go. If We Earn A Run (in Life We Call It Success) We Get Back To The Home Plate And Sit Upon A Bench. If We Are Thrown Out, We Walk Back To The Home Plate -- And Sit Upon A Bench.