Death Cancels All Engagements.

The Dullard's Envy Of Brilliant Men Is Always Assuaged By The Suspicion That They Will Come To A Bad End.

There Is Laughter That Goes So Far As To Lose All Touch With Its Motive, And To Exist Only, Grossly, In Itself. This Is Laughter At Its Best. A Man To Whom Such Laughter Has Often Been Granted May Happen To Die In A Work-house. No Matter. I Will Not Admit That He Has Failed In Life. Another Man, Who Has Never Laughed Thus, May Be Buried In Westminster Abbey, Leaving More Than A Million Pounds Overhead. What Then? I Regard Him As A Failure.

But To Die Of Laughter--this, Too, Seems To Me A Great Euthanasia.

No Roman Ever Was Able To Say, 'i Dined Last Night With The Borgias'.

To Destroy Is Still The Strongest Instinct Of Our Nature.